


A Very Brewer Thanksgiving

by DoubleL27



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Coming Out, Family, Going Home, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Mild Language, Sexual Content, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2020-12-14 22:47:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21023489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoubleL27/pseuds/DoubleL27
Summary: For their first Thanksgiving as fiancés, David and Patrick take a road trip to Patrick’s hometown.Edit: Rating has been upped for David’s mind and language.





	1. Cold Feet, Warm Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Patrick is unsure if he actually wants to go home and David really wants pie and sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a spin-off/off shoot of my last fic, Little Talks, where Marcy talks about them coming home for Thanksgiving. This fic takes place over Thanksgiving weekend in Canada (Happy Thanksgiving to you this weekend) 
> 
> Also, in my head canon, Schitt’s Creek is somewhere in British Columbia, Canada and Patrick’s family is 12ish hours away in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada.

“Maybe we should just not go.”

David looked up from his phone to see Patrick turning in a slow circle amidst the bags that were packed in the doorway (main space really) of the apartment. Patrick had a wide-eyed look that David was becoming far too familiar with.

“I’ll just call my mom and tell her there was an emergency,” Patrick said, sounding very certain if you didn’t know him.

“Ok,” David said, quietly, putting his phone down and standing to go to Patrick.

He placed his hands on Patrick’s shoulders to stop his movement and squeezed. “No. We did not plan to close the store for a week, pack several cute fall looks-“ David made a face as he glanced down at his suitcases, “even if they are several years out of season, create a carefully curated Spotify playlist that will last through all the driving, and set alarms so I can roll all the blankets around me and fall into the passenger seat at an ungodly hour, to just cancel last minute.”

Patrick looked at him with those big brown eyes and David felt his heart do a weird double beat. In very few instances, in relationships, had David felt like he was the one driving things, steering the ship if one would. Most relationships happened to him rather than involved him. The longer he was with Patrick, the more confident David felt; especially as Patrick slowly let his guard down -one that David hadn’t seen in the early days. But then, David had been in uncharted relationship territory since the cookie incident and mostly guessed the best course of action.

In that spirit, David gave a sheepish grin-grimace while he began poking at Patrick’s shoulders with his thumbs and forefingers. “Also, your mom has promised me at least four different types of pie.”

Patrick managed a fluttering smile for David and he felt quite powerful for making it. “Ah, we couldn’t disappoint your stomach.”

They really couldn’t. He was tired of soggy pies from the cafe. This was going to be a full, home-cooked meal and with Ted gone, Patrick was the only one he knew who made food from scratch and depending on how the week was going, they often ended up with pizza - which was really a perfect food. That, however was besides the point because he was very excited about a real meal.

“Why are you so nervous?” David smoothed our Patrick’s shirt and smirked at his fiancé. “Your parents love me.”

Having never been introduced to another persons parents, intentionally, the amount of affection that Patrick’s parents had shown him was astounding. He now got his own personal calls to the store and occasionally on his cell phone. They had also been over the moon about their engagement.

“I know, David.” Patrick’s warm eyes were filled with stress and David wanted to wipe it away. “But this is Thanksgiving.”

“Yes,” David agreed, going for a light tone. “I am going for the food.”

Patrick didn’t laugh or catch the Ever After reference - the best non-musical adaptation of Cinderella of all time. Brandy’s Cinderella was perhaps the best if all time. Rating Cinderellas was not the point of this. He was trying to comfort Patrick and not doing well.

”My whole extended family will be there. My family is weird.”

Having met the Brewers, David wasn’t sure Patrick understood what weird even meant.

“Oh, you mean like my mom who has the giant wig wall that none of us are trained to handle and sleeps in vests with broaches?” David asked, unsure if Patrick realized who he was taking to. “Or more like my dad who has saved his original name tag from Rose Video and wears it every day at the motel?”

“I just mean that they’re not a small group of weird like your family, they are a sprawling group of weird. And it’s hard to break into.”

“Rachel did,” David pointed out, his voice coming out like a faint sputter.

“Yeah, but Rachel was my best friend since we were ten and started attending family events early.”

“Great.” He threw his hands over his head. David envisioned a bunch of Rachel-Stans glaring at him from across the table. This was not ideal. Big city boy steals hometown boy from girl next door was not the storyline he wanted to play out. “Now, I’m nervous.”

David wanted pie. David also wanted more time with the Brewers and their warmth and kindness. He had loved bringing the Brewers to town twice this year and enjoying what full parenting looked like rather than the Rose’s drive by version. He did not want judgy, close-minded people wishing he was the perfect girl.

“They’re going to love you,” Patrick insisted, putting his own hands on David and moving them in soothing motions. He let out a deep sigh. “But I am going to get a lot of shit for leaving and staying away for the better part of two years. I told you, my family had two birthdays for me a year.”

“They’ve missed you, and have space to miss you, where as I have been trapped with my family for years now and they are probably sick of me.”

Patrick rolled his eyes and David knew his campaign to lessen the stress was working. “Alexis is on the other side of the equator and has talked to you every day. But yes, they’ve missed me and they will have lots of questions. Lots of questions.”

“Do you think I can’t answer questions?” David asked, actually affronted. His hands moved fiercely as he continued. “I have been interrogated by Moira Rose at three in the morning while high. There are few more high pressure situations than that.” 

“In that situation,” Patrick asked, looking at him with narrowed eyes, “Were you or your mom high?”

“Yes. Anyways,” David continued, waving off concerns about his previous interrogations. His hands continued to move as he talked. “The point is, I am doing my best not to have a panic attack because I am meeting the entirety of your family and being judged and you are not helping. We promised your mom a visit and I have been promised pie. Also, I do not want to be blamed for keeping you from your family.”

“Blamed?”

“Yes, blamed. You moved away, met a dashing, worldly, cosmopolitan man-“

Patrick just shook his head. “Those two words mean the same-“ 

“And haven’t been home since,” David continued, thinking about his earlier worries of Patrick’s family caring a lot that he was not Rachel and thinking of a mixed romance/Lifetime movie plot. “People could easily feel I have swept you off your feet and seduced you to keep with me and prevented you from returning to your family.” 

Patrick’s eyes were a lot less stressy and were now narrowed carefully. “You do know Edmonton is one of the largest cities in Canada.”

“Mmm.” David was pretty sure the suburbs of Edmonton didn’t count as a city.

Patrick seemed to deflate a little. He laid his head on David’s shoulder and sighed. “I just want this trip to go well.” David wrapped his arms back around Patrick and rubbed him in what David considered his most comforting manner.

He was rewarded with a soft kiss to the neck. David hummed in appreciation and rubbed again. Patrick cuddled in a little closer for a moment and then pulled back in David’s arms to look at him. “I want you to like my family and I want them to be happy for us.”

“You’re the one who decided you wanted to propose and make me your fiancé before you brought me home and introduce me to everyone.”

David knew that he was going to get examined closely as the boyfriend of the prodigal Brewer. The fiancé carried much more weight. Patrick was not wrong about the questions. But if he could hold his own against Moira Rose with a spotlight at 3 AM, he could handle almost anything.

“I couldn’t wait,” Patrick told him. He picked up David’s left hand, and brought it to his lips. David loved how the rings sparkled in the light of the apartment. Patrick lowered David’s hand a little and rubbed his thumb over David’s golden rings. “No regrets about this.”

David felt all the soft and tender feelings that had welled up and made him cry when he had seen Patrick on bended knee. He was not in the mood to cry and he was trying to keep the whole thing light, so instead of melting, he snarked instead. “None? Not even that your carefully crafted proposal was nearly thwarted by a twig?”

Patrick’s eyes remained stress-free, the crinkles were happy, love filled ones. “It was a stick, and it all worked out for the best.”

David was rewarded with another hand kiss. 

“So will Thanksgiving,” he pointed out. He would make sure of it.

Patrick reached up and cupped the back of David’s head. The stress had fled completely from Patrick’s eyes and David was pleased with himself. He was even more pleased when Patrick insisted on pulling his face down for a deep kiss. He wasn’t even mad that Patrick’s hands threaded into the back of his hair, messing with his styling.

David used his hands to cup Patrick’s hips. He brought their bodies together and could feel Patrick’s growing erection next to his own. This was much better than worried Patrick. 

“Let’s go pack the car.”

Those were not the words David was looking to hear.

David hooked his fingers deeper into Patrick’s shirt. “How about we pack the car after?”

“David,” Patrick began, in that tone that meant business. “Are you going to wake up and help me pack the car at 3 AM?”

“I meant after sex,” David tried, cringing a little, but his smile peeking out. He poked at Patrick’s shoulder hopefully.

“David, you and I both know we are not getting up after sex and you will not be helping me when the alarm goes off. Your reward for getting the car packed will be sex.”

David pulled back, his expression hopeful as he raised his eyebrows. “You could just do it. You have a method.”

“David,” Patrick grabbed David by the shoulders and David found himself getting harder. “If I pack the car myself, then I’m going to just come in and go right to bed. I am getting up at three to drive nearly all day. Or, you can come with me and help me pack the car. It will go faster and I think you’ll like the end result better.”

Patrick could sound so patronizing at times when he wanted David to go his way. Damn him, David found it incredibly sexy.

“Fine,” David huffed. “But know this is bribery.”

Patrick shrugged as if he didn’t care in the slightest. If they were having children, which thank god they were never doing jumping off of that terrible bridge, he would have to watch this disturbing trait. He would have children that were far too used to getting whatever they wanted.

He heard Patrick’s voice in his head say, _Like You_.

That was not necessary.

“Let’s go.”

David startled out of his thoughts as Patrick swung his duffle bag over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows, expectantly. David looked back and then looked down at the floor. They were standing in a mess of bags. David spread his hands out over them and bounced them.

“There’s a lot of bags.”

“Yes. I am bringing one duffle bag and someone has three titanium suitcases and a toiletries bag. Because I love you, I will take some of yours with me.”

Of course, Patrick only picked up his toiletries bag and the smallest of David’s suitcases. “You can take the snack bags.”

“One suitcase is full of presents for your parents and in case we need any for anyone else.” Which was the small one Patrick had picked. He would notice how heavy it was when he got to the stairs. “And I don’t know what clothes I will need, yet.”

“Did you pay for-“ David just blinked at Patrick and he heard the groan as Patrick shook his head. He was met with a stern face and a finger pointing at him, lifted from a suitcase handle. David grinned in response. “You know what-we’ll inventory when we get there. Let’s go, I will show you the Brewer method for car packing.”

With that, Patrick opened the door and was out into the hallway. David grabbed the two non-perishable snack bags and threw them over a shoulder each before grabbing the handles of his suitcases and following Patrick to the stairwell.

“I just want you to know,” David said, his breath puffing as he worked to carry the bags down the stairs behind Patrick, “That I am probably going to need two kisses per instruction on the Brewer Method. One for listening to the instructions and a second for completing them correctly.”

One of the suitcases hit the stair with a heavy thud. He was not going to let these damn suitcases have him fall down the stairs. Who packed these? He packed them. He wanted some damn pie, though.

“Maybe a third to keep my spirits up through the process,” he added, finally reaching the bottom of the stairs. His breath was ragged as he began dragging the bags towards the door.

If bribery was incentive for car packing, David was going to milk it for all it was worth. Maybe he could get Patrick to hurry and they could get back inside quicker.

Patrick, his damn beautiful fiancé who seemed not at all out of breath, was smiling as the door was held open. “The gym is really working out well.”

“Thank you,” David returned, acidly.

As he was coming down the hall, the snack bags fell down his arms and tangled around each other before finally banging into the wheeled suitcase.

“Alright. Come on! Time’s a’wastin’.”

David sent a death glare at his grinning fiancé. Patrick was not troubled. He just kept smiling. Damn him.

Patrick stayed in the doorway as David got there, huffing and puffing like the fucking Big Bad Wolf. When he got there, Patrick took his face and gave him a kiss. Patrick’s lips were soft and warm. David slipped his tongue into Patrick’s mouth to deepen the kiss and went to put a hand behind his head to pull him closer but his arms were heavy. Fuck.

“For incentive,” Patrick told him when he pulled back.

David tried not to smile but he felt like his face landed on that expression anyway. He tried to gracefully swing out of the doorway, but was thwarted by “Can we wait for more incentive when I am not overtaxed like a full pack-mule?”

“Yes,” Patrick agreed.

David felt something hit his ass and was pretty sure it was his travel case. He would enjoy turning the tables on Patrick later.

Thankfully, packing up the car was not as painful as David had imagined it was going to be. There was only some discussion of how to best pack titanium suitcases and questions of actually how much stuff was needed to put into the trip to Patrick’s parents. David stashed the snacks in easy reach of his front passenger seat. If he was going to be trapped in this car for hours on end, there was going to need to be sustenance.

Hopefully, he would need sustenance a little sooner. David slid his fingers into Patrick’s belt-loops and pressed his hands against his fiancés ass and pushed him up the stairs.

“You know, if you had put this much enthusiasm into packing the car we could be naked right now.”

David used his left hand to squeeze Patrick’s ass. He was rewarded with a small yelp and a jump. Doors opened and closed in the apartment building and David worked on moving faster towards Patrick’s apartment.

Next place they moved into, David didn’t want a penthouse without a working elevator. He needed less stairs and less people.

They rushed down the plain hallway full of cheap wooden doors. By the time they had made it to _the_ door, David had wrapped his arms around to Patrick’s front and had found the sweet spot on his neck. David allowed his hand to slink down to Patrick’s front and go hunting for its prize. He was additionally rewarded by the sound of Patrick fumbling the keys.

“We do live here,” Patrick said, raggedly.

Patrick finally got the key in the door and the door popped open. David looked forward to getting to a very different release. He ushered Patrick inside and slammed the door shut behind him.

“You live here.” David murmured the words in between kisses. “I live in a motel next to my parents. Having loud sex there is worse.”

Patrick turned around and began backing David towards the bed. “You are going to have 30 seconds to get naked and then I will not be responsible for what happens to your clothes.”

David shivered at the promise in Patrick’s words and shed layers quickly. He had succeeded in his mission to take the stress out of Patrick’s eyes and he was being rewarded.

Not a bad end to a near disaster, David thought as he lost his underwear and made moves to get Patrick naked. Not bad at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tags will change as chapters and characters get added, in order of appearance. Currently, I have five slated and chapters 2-4 plotted out with detail.
> 
> Up next, going home is hard.


	2. Dreamlover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is a long drive from Schitt’s Creek to Patrick’s childhood home, which is mostly good for sleeping and thinking depending on what seat you’re in. Or, our boys road trip and it goes about how you’d expect.

Three AM alarms should not have been a thing. 

Patrick fumbled for his phone to shut off the offending noise. He grabbed it quickly and tapped until the noise stopped. The room was dark and the lump of a man next to him tried burrowing deeper into the covers. 

“David,” Patrick said, his own voice rough with sleep. “We’ve got to get up.”

His words were met with mumbles and blankets being pulled further up. 

Patrick forced himself from the bed and shivered. Heat usually wafted up from lower apartments to his own, making the penthouse a cheaper deal, but it must not have been on yet. Patrick quickly reached for the neatly folded pile of clothes he had set out for himself last night. Patrick began pulling on his most comfortable pair of jeans and looked back at the lump in the bed. 

“David. I am not kidding. I will leave you behind.”

The head that poked out at him had bleary eyes and a huge cowlick, which made Patrick’s heart stutter a beat. The words that followed, spoken with a clumsy, sleepy tongue did not. “Maybe you were right. Maybe we shouldn’t go. Maybe we should sleep.”

Patrick pulled on a soft, charcoal Henley and continued looking at David even with the interruption of the shirt over his face. “My mom promised you four types of pie, and if you wanted me to be right, you shouldn’t have talked me out of making up an emergency last night.”

The full set of blankets moved, and a blanket burrito emerged from the bed. David blinked at him before shuffling off to the kitchen. The plan to take the blankets was still astounding to Patrick, as David definitely had strong feelings about bed things and outside things being two separate categories that shouldn’t meet, ever. Patrick had initially thought the blanket plan was a joke. 

Patrick pulled on his sweater and watched as David opened the fridge and began packing a cooler bag. As Patrick checked for his phone, keys and wallet, David was still rummaging in the fridge. 

“Uh, I thought we packed the snack bags last night?”

“Those were the non-perishable items.” David’s hand waved over the cooler as the face in the blankets frowned. “These are the perishable items. I didn’t want to leave them in the car all night.”

“You know, it was actually cold out last night.”

“Freezing the snacks is not optimal.”

Three AM was not for logical conversations or for trying to find logic in conversations that bordered on absurd. It was at best for cuddles and sex and sleep. 

He had to drive. 

“Driving won’t be optimal if we don’t leave soon.”

“I’m almost done,” David insisted. “I just need some brie.”

Patrick plucked the cheese out of David’s hand and put it back on the shelf. There were things he was willing to tolerate and there were things he certainly was not. Brie in his car was one of them. “Baby, you’re not eating brie in the car. Let’s go. You’re going to sleep for the next seven hours.”

David’s glare was only half-hearted. He zipped the cooler bag and began shuffling for the door. “Phone,” David mumbled and the shuffling mass of blankets headed for the bed and snatched the phone, cord and all and it disappeared inside the blankets. The blankets shifted direction again and Patrick made sure to check that the stove was off and all of the lights, before following David out into the hall. 

Patrick gave one last look at his tiny, One-Bed-Room apartment and couldn’t help but smile. He might be going to spend the holiday with his parents, but this little spot was home. Patrick closed the door and headed off to find the blanket monster.

David had already gotten to the car and wedged himself in the front seat, blankets and all, fully reclined. David’s work duffle had also made it to the car, which Patrick did not remember seeing come down the stairs. At some point his fiancé had also put on sunglasses.

As Patrick slid into the car, a hand reached out of the blankets with a cell phone open to a playlist. 

“Connect please.”

Patrick plugged in David’s phone to the car and house music began pouring out of the speakers. There was a deep bass line that reverberated in Patrick’s chest. 

“David, this is the playlist?”

“I’m going to be asleep while you drive for hours. It needs to be something that I can sleep through but will keep you awake.” David’s voice was slow and sleepy. “I can sleep through this. Do you know how many clubs I’ve passed out in? Karaoke classics are the last three hours.”

With that, the blankets covered David’s face and he shifted his body to the side, giving Patrick his back. Patrick wasn’t sure how to unpack that horrifying statement, or how casually David said it. There were moments where David talked about his time before Schitt’s Creek and made everything sound almost normal but the words are anything but. 

Filing away the ‘passed out in nightclubs regularly’ fact for later, Patrick put the keys in the ignition and turned the engine over. He eased the car into drive and pulled out of the spot and the lot. David occasionally made comments about the age of the car, then Patrick reminded him they didn’t have the money for a new car. Even if he could afford a new car, Patrick was going to drive this one into the ground for sentimental reasons. 

Everything has started when he had packed this car and a small trailer to drive to Schitt’s Creek. His first date with the love of his life had ended in this car, with David being the one to lean in and do what Patrick hadn’t been able to muster up the courage to do in the first month and a half since knowing David. He had been immensely grateful to David but it also had left him with strong feelings about the car. 

Now, he was retracing his steps back to a place he’d once called home, but doubted he ever would again. There had been a time where Patrick had thought he would spend his whole life in the same 30 square kilometers. That thought had paralyzed him so many times and made him question why he couldn’t be happy like everyone else.

He’d never had very big dreams. Patrick had always liked simple things, like an organized space, the smell of laundry and fresh cut grass. He had never been the kind of person who longed for fame and fortune, despite his love of performing. It was largely why his discontentment had never made sense. All he had ever wanted was a job he was proud of, a place to call his own and a love that was like his parents-steady, warm and true. 

Little had he known his dreams had been waiting over 1,000 miles away. 

His dream snorted in his sleep, turning over so his face was towards Patrick, just as Patrick pulled on to the highway. 

He was taking David home to his sprawling family and their traditions and Patrick couldn’t help but worry a little. Coming out and coming into his own in Schitt’s Creek had been like completing a transformation in a tiny, magical bubble. He was crossing the line out of his own personal fairy tale and bringing it back to the place where people thought of him in specific terms, old terms, ones he didn’t wear anymore. 

Patrick had gotten in his car and left two years ago because it hadn’t fit him and his skin had felt too tight at home. David had only left his old life because he had been forced. Patrick could not seem to correctly explain to anyone how much he hadn’t wanted to go back to a place that fit like a shrunken sweater. The worry that he would be seen and judged in ways he had spent thirty years avoiding. 

Still, he missed the crush of his family at a holiday. There was a charm to the cobbled together tables into a gathering that filled all the spaces, the sheer noise of putting over twenty people in a house, the familiar jokes and carefully avoided landmines. Most of his childhood had been spent in the larger family that his parent’s siblings and his cousins made. He’d never even been mad to have a family event that conflicted with something his friends wanted to do because he actually liked his family, a concept many of his friends never understood. 

The first five hours of the drive were just Patrick, his thoughts, and the sunrise as he closed the gap on the space between his past and now. The beat of the music pouring from the speakers is incongruent with the sleepy scenery out the window and the glare of the sun as it peeks over the horizon. Somewhere in the start of hour six, the pile of blankets next to him shifted in a way that was more than a sleepy shuffle. The cowlick of dark hair poked out followed by his fiancé’s beloved face. 

“Coffee.”

“In the thermos.”

David picked up the travel cup from the holder. Patrick could see him inspecting it out of the corner of his eye. Then he caught a look with a raised eyebrow from the side. “Where did the thermos come from? This is new.”

Patrick was pretty sure David had every household item catalogued. “You slept through our coffee and pee stop back there. I got your latte to go. Should be enough for two.”

“I love you.”

The words are fierce and heartfelt and Patrick is well aware that his fiancé would do just about anything for coffee. Makes him just as pleased now to know that David would wake up with a craving now as knowing his coffee order in the early days had. Giving David gifts was always enjoyable, even when they were as simple as coffee. 

“Oh my god, why is this so good?” Patrick could see David staring into the thermos looking for answers. “Do we have pastries?”

“You packed three bags of snacks. I wouldn’t be surprised if we do.”

With that, David was up, unbuckled and entirely over the center console to dig in the bags in the backseat. Patrick gripped the steering wheel and tried to focus on the road and not the shifting beside him. 

“Please be careful. We are on a highway.”

The response he received was mostly muffled and the sound of a raccoon digging through a trash can. God, Patrick loved this man beyond reason. 

“Day old cinnamon buns!”

David slid back into his seat holding a slightly dented brown pastry box. His smile was triumphant and his hair was a mess as he opened the box. David removed a slightly misshapen roll and made happy noises as he began eating. 

“They’re not as good as fresh ones but Ivan probably hasn’t even dropped off today’s at the motel, so it’s not like we could have stolen those.”

“Buckle your seat belt, please.”

David licked his fingers before taking the seat belt and clicking it back in place. Patrick didn’t take his eyes from the road but could see the soft smile to his left. “It was just for a quick snack. Want one?”

“No, I’m good. Don’t want the wheel to get sticky.”

“We could get other things sticky.”

David’s tone was suggestive as he licked sugar from his lips. Patrick felt his pants begin to get uncomfortably tight and he wanted to say yes. But the sound of the engine overrode his desire and Patrick tried to think of the last tax seminar that he had gone to and all the code he had learned about. 

“David, no,” he managed once he felt he was back under control. “You are not sucking me off in a two ton death machine and I am not pulling over to add on unnecessary time. We can go and park somewhere this evening.”

“Do you actually know places to do that? It’s not like just a movie thing?”

Patrick shrugged. “Needed some place for privacy.”

Not that he and Rachel had made serious use out of them. Mostly their dates had ended with a lot of conversation and a lot of making out. There was a lot of touching under clothes but over undergarments. He had made them wait for their first time until he had had the house to himself and they had sex in his childhood bed. 

“God, that’s what separate wings of houses are for.”

“There’s a lot of ranch style houses out there, David.” Patrick couldn’t help but grin at David’s view of what teenage hookups were supposed to look like. “Not a lot of extra wings to go hide in.”

“Is this is also part of your high school experience? Like would that have been the next step from your party?”

“You planning on taking Ted parking?” Patrick asked, drily. 

“You never know.”

“Mmhmm, pretty sure he’s pretty happy with Alexis on an island right now surrounded by tortoises.”

“Ugh! Scaly and food poisoning. Nope. Why?” Patrick didn’t watch David’s face journey through those words but he could imagine it well enough. Patrick felt more than saw the glare that was sent his way. “Also, you were hot for Ted, too.”

“I think we can all agree that Ted objectively is hot.” You would have to be dead to not notice. “But I will take you parking and you will enjoy it.”

“Mmm,” David murmured happily at the back of his throat. Patrick heard a yawn and the box of cinnamon buns return to the back seat. “Are we going to have to go parking every time we want to do anything?”

“I have far more incentive to be creative now than I did in high school.”

“Mmm. Creative.”

Patrick waited to see what comment David would make next but none came. He heard a quiet snuffle (definitely couldn’t call it a snore) and realized that despite drinking what was probably the equivalent of an entire latte, David had fallen right back to sleep. To be fair, it was before 10 AM and before David considered himself a real person. Patrick was still waiting for David to realize he had done nothing with his hair when he had woken up this morning and the cowlick was looking more permanent.

That would come later, he supposed. There were still at least another seven hours of driving ahead of him and nothing to really do but think. 

Before they had left, David and Patrick had talked everything over and reached out to tell Rachel they were coming. Patrick and Rachel had only really talked a handful of times since the fateful day she had shown up and been the first bit of his past to interrupt his present. 

First, he had been too angry, raw over David disappearing from his life. Then, when he had reached out, checking in to see how she was doing, Rachel had asked him not to because it was too hard. They’d not spoken for an entire year, which had been the longest they had gone without speaking since they had first met. 

Patrick had left her alone for quite awhile until he had spent quite a bit of his time yelling at the Oilers losses, including a heartbreaking one to Vancouver which Ted had lauded over him. David had told him to complain to someone who cared. So he had texted his companion in hockey complaints, and baseball complaints and most others, Rachel. He hadn’t hid any of the texts from David and most of them had been glanced at and then the phone handed back to him with phrases like, “None of that makes any fucking sense.”

Somewhere over the last year, they began to feel like friends again. Rachel had begun asking questions about David and Patrick answered. He asked questions about her life but she was more cagey. It was weird and he hadn’t wanted to surprise her by just showing up at stuff. As worried as he was about the weekend, he didn’t have to live here. Rachel did. 

There were also the rest of their years of mutual friends to think of. He had only kept up with a handful of them. Told a few about David and their engagement, but most of his life was wrapped up in Schitt’s Creek and his new start. 

There were so many variables and so few things that Patrick felt he could control. The feelings bubbling inside made him want to turn around or blow past where he was supposed to go and find somewhere else to spend the weekend. Promises were made and people were expecting him and somehow that pressure made it all feel worse.

Eventually his thoughts were interrupted again by David emerging from his cocoon. David turned his sunglass-covered eyes toward Patrick and swallowed before saying, “I need to pee.”

“Well, considering we are not close to any stops with a bathroom and the ones that are close by you definitely won’t approve of, you have two options.” Neither were going to go over well and Patrick couldn’t wait for the reaction. He managed a casual voice as he said, “You can either pee in an empty bottle or I can pull over.”

“I’m sorry! What?!” David sputtered back. 

Patrick’s great regret was that he couldn’t see David’s face fully while he drove. “I said...”

“I heard you!!” David clarified and Patrick tried to hide his smirk. “They’re just not real options.”

“We can always see about finding you an old gas station bathroom,” Patrick said, maintaining a calm voice and keeping his mouth steady. “Or an outhouse.”

“Ugh!!!”

They sat in silence for about thirty seconds before David snapped, “Pull over.”

Patrick signaled, despite no one being on the road. He pulled into the emergency lane and undid his seatbelt as David fled from the car. Patrick slowly unfolded his stiff body from the drivers seat.

“I’ll make sure no bears get you.”

David stopped his awkward run to turn gape at him. “What?!”

Patrick just grinned at him over the top of the car, unable to repeat the bear comment in fear that David wouldn’t go. “I have lots of hand sanitizer waiting.”

Patrick made sure to grab the travel bottle from the center console where David kept it. He waved the bottle at David. 

“Echhhh!”

David headed off into the woods in an uneven gate and Patrick used the time to stretch his legs. He walked around to the passenger side and leaned back against the car. Patrick was pretty sure that David had grown up in a sad world where he and his cousins did not have literal pissing contests in the snow. Patrick supposed when one grew up in a world of private jets, any trip longer than two hours was a plane ride.

“There’s like, sticks and twigs and leaves out there. That’s not a bathroom.”

“It’s called nature.”

David held his hands out like a small child and Patrick dutifully squirted hand sanitizer into his hands. David frowned deeply as he scrubbed the solution all over his hands. The hands opened again, and Patrick gave another squirt. 

“What if we flew home?” David asked, looking both desperate and hopeful. “We don’t need your car. We can walk almost everywhere at home.”

“David. You’re fine. You weren’t eaten. You were not infected by Mother Nature. And if you were,” Patrick pressed a kiss to David’s temple. “I’ll take care of you.”

“How much longer?” David asked, his voice slipping into a high-pitched whine at the end.

“Three hours, give it take. “It’s just about karaoke time on your playlist.”

David took a deep breath, seeming to steel himself to get back in the car. Somehow, he found a determined smile to gift to Patrick. Patrick was promptly patted as David stepped out of his arms. “Skipping right ahead then.”

Patrick got back into the car and turned over the ignition. The first bars of Mariah Carey’s Dreamlover came rolling out of the old speakers. The do-do-dos started as he shifted the car into gear. David began belting the song the second Patrick eased back onto the freeway and towards their destination. 

_I need a lover to give me_  
The kind of love that would last always  
I need somebody uplifting  
To take me away 

He’s heard the song so many times, but somehow, siting in this car with his _fiancé_ belting out the lyrics, they lodged somewhere directly in his heart. He wanted to reach out and take David’s hand. David’s hands however were in full power-ballad emoting mode, moving with every new phrase and putting all of David’s feeling out into the universe of Patrick’s car. 

One of the hands landed on his shoulder and Patrick chanced a glance to David who very clearly mouthed, _'Cause I wanna share forever with you baby_

Patrick couldn’t keep his mouth from wobbling between a small smile and a quiver. 

The next three hours passed quickly with various singalongs, Patrick convincing David to feed him bites of food while he drives and conversations about anything and nothing. It’s a relief to not be trapped alone with his thoughts. 

Then, everything began to look familiar. Within the last hour he knew exactly where he was and where he was going. Despite the man beside him belting out Beyoncé beside him, the old feelings of dread and hopelessness that had become second nature on these old streets started to well up. They made David face into the background as Patrick felt how miserable he had been here just as acutely as if it were yesterday. 

A warm pressure pressed against his back and rubbed soothingly back and forth. Patrick used the feeling to ground himself back in the car. The music had changed back to Mariah and this time David was crooning vaguely off key. 

_Time can't erase a feeling this strong_  
No way you're never gonna shake me  
Ooh, darling, 'cause you'll always be my baby 

Patrick used the steady pressure of David’s hand on his back and his voice dining along to his karaoke mix all the way until he pulled into his parents’ drive and they stepped out the door. 

“Hi. Hi!” David said in the high, breathy tone he sometimes got when he was excited. He bounded up the stairs and gave both of Patrick’s parents a hug. “I am so glad to finally be here but your son has kept me from a real bathroom all day and I need the use of your facilities.”

“I offered to stop.”

“Gas stations don’t have bathrooms. They have portals to hell.” David turned a charming smile on Patrick’s mom. “I knew your mom would have a clean one.”

His mother smiled right back and took David’s arm. “Come with me. I’ll show you.“ She patted his father’s back affectionately and said, “Clint, honey, help Patrick with the bags.” 

Patrick popped the trunk as his dad headed towards him, hands in pockets. Patrick reached out and hugged his father. He’s seen the man more in the last two months than he has in two years and it feels good. 

They walked around to the trunk, his dad peering in. “You staying a month?”

Patrick laughed, surveying the bags again. He shook his head as he peered inside. “No. Just the weekend. You know how you didn’t understand David’s wardrobe?”

“Yeah?”

“You will after this weekend.” Patrick reached in and pulled the larger two of Patrick’s suitcases, leaving the duffle and the smaller bags for his dad to take out after him. “Leave the snacks. David will come back for those.”

David would never leave food alone for long and if he thought he was getting out of helping by going to the bathroom, he had another thing coming. Although somewhere in the few hours he had been awake, David had polished off a stunning amount of snacks. Patrick was not the least bit sorry he had prevented the brie from making it to the car. 

As Patrick began wheeling the suitcases towards the house, his mom stepped back out onto the front porch. Love swamped him and Patrick was eternally grateful for having the wonderful parents he had been given. He had an extra bounce as he dragged what had to be the majority of David’s sweater collection up the stairs. He abandoned the bags to the side and allowed himself to be taken into a large hug from his mom. 

Fears dissipated as he was welcomed back. For the first time, Patrick was hopeful that being back wasn’t a colossal mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was brought to you by Dan, David and my mutual love of Mariah Carey and my desire for a road trip with the boys. 
> 
> Also, thank you for putting up with a lot of driving introspection from Patrick. Love the little ball of hidden anxieties that he is.


	3. Photographs, Pastries and Parties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Well, what was your favorite part of Thanksgiving?”_
> 
> _“The food. Is there...why else would you...I don’t know why you would think otherwise.” David looked around at the Brewers in the kitchen with him. It was literally the purpose for the holiday. “Do other people have other reasons?”_
> 
> _“I certainly don’t,” Mr. Brewer agreed kindly._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience. This chapter gave me fits. Hope you all enjoy it.

The Brewer home wasn’t large but still felt expansive after six years of motel living and Patrick’s one-room apartment. David Rose who had once lived in a multi-room penthouse with floor to ceiling windows revealing New York City, who had grown up in a house so large he often didn’t know who was in it, now was used to living in a postage stamp. He took his time walking back from Mrs. Brewer’s very clean and neat bathroom, using it to poke into the little nooks and crannies of the house without opening any doors and violating privacy. He wasn’t Alexis.

Patrick’s style was clearly derived from his family home: mid century modern with clean lines, comfortable furniture, functional and lived in spaces with pieces that add warmth. It was a contrast to his own black and white with metallics color palette and his fully angular tastes that had embodied all the spaces he had lived in alone. David realized, staring at the hodge-podge of family photos on the wall in the stairwell, that he doesn’t miss it like he used to.

The gallery owner in him wanted to re-arrange the whole composition to make it more pleasing. Some of the photos, like the one of Patrick and his sister grinning as they raced down a hill, could have used to be enlarged to anchor the whole piece. He also wanted to update the frames, at least make them look somewhat similar than just brown wood. He also didn’t love the mix of formal portraits with the candids. They should be separated out into different arraignments, balancing each other out.

David loved the look of the curly-haired boy beaming back out of the pictures at him. Children who are Patrick Brewer in photographs are not the absolute worst. Still looked like he had very dirty hands.

“Hey.” David startled at the noise and turned to see Patrick at the bottom of the stairs. His fiancé was grinning up at him with that easy smile. “Thought you might have gotten lost in the east wing.”

Refusing to rise to the teasing bait, David just pointed at the photos on the wall turning back to look at them. “These are nice.”

Patrick climbed the stairs and David just waited, still transfixed. In Schitt’s Creek, Patrick seemed like he had sprung out of a cabbage patch, sweet-faced and fully grown. Looking at the pictures he could see the progression from goofy toddler to a ridiculously handsome teenager. Goth, rave David would have sneered at Preppy Patrick and still desperately wanted him.

“There’s a million.” Patrick came up behind him and wrapped his arms around David’s waist. “These ones miraculously made it to the wall from the boxes.”

The only boxes of photographs that David had been used to were his mom’s headshots and promotional posters and flyers for Rose Video.

“I don’t think we ever had candid photographs of Alexis and I. I mean, aside from tabloids.”

Patrick’s head dropped to his shoulder and Patrick’s arms tightened around him.

“_David_.”

David both hated and loved that tone. Sometimes, when he told stories, Patrick would say his name in a way that sounded like his heart was breaking. David hated that his life before Schitt’s Creek sounded like such a travesty that it made Patrick come close to tears. He hadn’t felt it was a travesty at the time. Considering all the things he had in exchange, he still wasn’t sure it was. David loved that someone loved him enough to care about his experiences as a child and whether or not they were good.

“It’s fine.” David waved his hands, trying to wave the whole thing away. “I never liked candids anyways because, you know, tabloids are trash and I always look like a gremlin.”

Patrick cradled the side of David’s head and pressed a kiss to his temple. “Well, my mom loves nothing more than taking photos. There will be a million of you before you know it.”

That was less comforting than Patrick probably meant it to be. “Do I get full approval first?”

Patrick pulled away but captured David’s hand and began pulling him down the stairs. “My mom still likes to use regular film. We’ll make sure they clear any digital ones that may get taken first, though.”

“Is this the Stone Age?” David asked, unable to keep the horror from his voice.

“Yes,” Patrick agreed.

They walked hand and hand into the Brewer kitchen. Yellow gingham half curtains hung on the windows and a kitschy retro wallpaper covered the wall around the eat in table. The room smelled like butter and cinnamon and sugar. Mrs. Brewer was putting together some kind of dough on the island and already baked goods were resting on a cooling rack behind her, beside the oven. It smelled like heaven. If he could just eat some he could die happy.

David gave Patrick’s hand a squeeze, a silent thank you.

Mrs. Brewer looked up from her task at the kitchen island and smiled. “Oh good, you found him.”

“Mom, the house isn’t that big. Weren’t many places he could hide.”

Patrick left David to slide into one of the seats at the island, their hands slipping apart. Patrick moved around to give his mom a quick kiss on the cheek. “He liked the photos over the stairs.”

Mrs. Brewer smiled a knowing smile at David. “Patrick was adorable as a child. There are lots of pictures he felt were too embarrassing to be hung.”

“Are there?” David asked, enjoying the idea of Patrick having embarrassing photos.

“You know,” Patrick said, quickly, “We don’t need to get into all that.”

“Don’t need to get into all what?” Patrick’s dad asked, coming into the kitchen.

Ignoring the signals his fiancé was sending him to stop talking, David went for what he hoped was an innocent smile. “Oh, Mrs. Brewer was telling me how many more pictures of Patrick you have than the ones displayed.” Patrick had a blush rising on his cheeks and David was even more curious. “I would _love_ to see them sometime.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Brewer said, kindly. She began wrapping up the pastry, that looked like pie crust, in cling wrap. “I am sure we will have some time to look though old photos. We are so glad you came home with Patrick.”

The blush bloomed over his face, unwelcome. Truth was, David wasn’t sure anyone had ever actually been glad to have him, David, in their house for who he was as a person. David was just the guy that people kept around for party bowls of E and throwing around money. Or he had been.

People seemed to actually like having him around.

“My parents aren’t really big on celebrating holidays. I mean, not since the incident.”

Even then, the Rose family events were a spectacle to be seen and photographed and written about. It wasn’t about a kitchen that smelled like it had been used recently for good things and actual people spending time together.

“Well, what was your favorite part of Thanksgiving?”

“The food. Is there...why else would you...I don’t know why you would think otherwise.” David looked around at the Brewers in the kitchen with him. It was literally the purpose for the holiday. “Do other people have other reasons?”

“I certainly don’t,” Mr. Brewer agreed kindly.

He reached for a pastry cooling behind his wife and got slapped away. Mrs. Brewer picked one up and passed one across the island to David.

“Here, honey, try this.”

It looked like a cinnamon bun, which he was not adverse to having more of. It didn’t quite smell the same. “What’s this?”

“Just a little experiment I am working on. Pumpkin roll of sorts.” Mrs. Brewer’s brow wrinkled in the same way Patrick’s did when he was thinking so hard. “You’ll tell me what you think?”

Cinnamon buns from the front desk aside, David missed fresh baked goods since Ted had abducted his sister for parts unknown and taken his pastry skills with them. This one smelled delightful and felt just right. Crisp on the outside but soft on the inside.

David lifted the pumpkin bun to his mouth and took a bite. It was warm and flakey and had a lovely spiced pumpkin scent. David threw his head back in enjoyment and closed his eyes. Ugh! It was so good. In the background he could hear Patrick talking with his parents but wasn’t focusing on the words.

He opened his eyes and took in the indie of the pastry, beautiful swirls and layers. David took another bite and hummed with happiness.

“I also started some extra, just in case you planned on going tonight,” Mrs. Brewer’s voice cut through his blissed our state.

David smacked his lips once in pleasure and opened his eyes as Patrick hedged. “I dunno. Kinda tired after the drive.”

“Go where?”

Mrs. Brewer turned to him with wide eyes. “Oh-“

“Nowhere.”

Patrick’s response was as quick as the motion to shove his hands deep inside his pockets, but David knew that face. He carefully placed his snack on a napkin and wiped off his fingers before raising a brow at Patrick.

“You know,” David began, knowing his voice had taken on a particularly cold, snotty tone that he couldn’t quite stop. “It’s really hard to go or not go _nowhere_. Everywhere is explicitly _somewhere_.”

“Well, I am just going to pop this dough in the fridge to chill and going to go check on your room.” Mrs. Brewer began, her voice too bright. David didn’t take his eyes off of Patrick. “I can’t remember if I did the sheets.” Mrs. Brewer took her stage left cue quite seriously and slipped right out of the room. “Clint, why don’t we put the boys stuff in their room.”

Mr. Brewer dutifully followed and they were left alone in the kitchen. Patrick kept giving that deer in the headlights look that meant he was trying to figure out what he wanted to do but couldn’t figure out what that was. His eyes were like the spinning blue wheel of death on an old computer. He was trying to figure out how to move and couldn’t.

David thought back to the previous afternoon and Patrick’s worry about coming home and wanting to cancel. David had known it had been about more than just being back here for the first time. He let out a sigh and felt his face soften. Knowing Patrick would probably need more, David reached out a hand.

Patrick slipped his hand neatly into David’s and held on like it was a lifeline. David worked to keep his own anxiety down.

“Patrick, whatever it is we can go or not go, I _don’t_ care. I don’t know if it’s even within my aesthetic.” Considering the housewarming party, David doubted it would be. “but don’t lie to me.”

Patrick sighed, looked down at the floor and did everything short of scuffing his feet on the floor. “It’s stupid. Ever since high school, the people I was friends with would do this Friendsgiving on the Friday before.”

“So tonight.”

“Yeah. Anyways, Rachel mentioned it, but I’m really tired and I just...” Patrick looked down before glancing up at David through his lashes. “I haven’t been to one in awhile.”

David’s eyes rolled of their own accord. He was certain he knew the answer but still asked, “How long is awhile?”

“Two years.”

“So, since you came to Schitt’s Creek.” David left off _and met me. _

“Look, I ended a whole engagement and—“

“It’s a lot.” These people probably had expectations and feelings when one day Patrick decided he want happy here. David pulled Patrick into his arms and just held him. There was a bigger question. “Are you out to any of these people?”

“A few. Rachel, Alex, Jake and Shane.”

“Is that the totality of the invite list?”

“There will probably be a few more-lot more. We had a pretty big circle of friends.”

Patrick, like Alexis, was one of the pretty, popular types that David hated. Which was so fucking weird, considering he liked to wear the stupid finger condoms for flipping the pages and thought tax seminars were fun. David had that old feeling of panic of not actually being welcome at parties. If Patrick was worried about it, was it partially because he wasn’t sure David would fit in?

“I can always stay here.”

“No, David, no. I don’t want that.”

Patrick’s arms dove around his waist and he cuddled in close. David tilted his head on top of Patrick’s and just held on. He could feel Patrick breath in and out, trying to regulate. The deep sigh David felt more than heard had Patrick relaxing deeper into David’s personal space. David would probably choke before admitting to anyone else how much he loved it.

“Honestly, I don’t want to stay up until three in the morning and possibly crash us into a tree on the way home.”

“That would be unfortunate.”

“I believe the term is incorrect,” Patrick corrected, humor coming though his voice. Patrick pulled back and smiled at David.

David found the corners of his mouth pulling up. His hand began moving of its own accord, picking at Patrick’s shirt, enjoying the waffle texture under his fingers. “We can stay in if you don’t want to go.”

Patrick covered the hand David was using to pick at his shirt and stilled it. He smiled affectionately and leaned up to press a kiss to David’s lips. “Ah yes, an exciting night in with my parents.”

“Uh, I am pretty sure that I could get a full Patrick Brewer retrospective out of staying here. So, I _highly_ doubt that would be entirely boring.”

There would likely be fucking slideshows and everything. What did it say about who he had become that a goddamn home slideshow with blurry pictures sounded exciting? Although it was less about the pictures and more about the subject.

“I will definitely get shit about avoiding them if I am in town and don’t go.”

David frowned at his fiancé. “I mean, you are avoiding them.”

“I don’t want to be.”

“Then don’t.” David rubbed at Patrick’s shoulders. “If it’s awful, we can leave.”

Patrick just blinked at him, uncertain, and the whole experience of Patrick being vaguely lost while David was not remained disconcerting. David rubbed Patrick’s shoulders with more vigor because that was a concrete thing he knew how to do.

“You know what, you don’t have to decide anything right now. Why don’t we get a nap and then you can decide what you want to do.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best. Thanks.”

“Mm.” David slid out of the chair and tugged at Patrick’s hand to get him moving. “You’ll have to show me where we’re staying.”

“Wait, we?” Patrick stopped short and tilted his head. “You napped the whole way here.”

“No, I did three hours worth of karaoke.” David effected a cough just for Patrick’s benefit. “It was very strenuous.”

“Bringing in the bags was also very strenuous.” Patrick’s voice had reverted to the full flirty sarcasm that had started David down this path. “If only you’d helped.”

“Hmmph. If I hadn’t been deprived of adequate facilities in the journey here, I could have helped. Also, had I been alerted to the dreadful hair situation I wouldn’t have had to waste precious time fixing that disaster.”

That earned him a chuckle and an affectionate elbow jab that David easily side stepped. They climbed the stairs together to find the Brewer’s in Patrick’s childhood bedroom. David is pleasantly surprised to find a bed larger than a twin in the center of the room. If the Brewers weren’t there and if Patrick weren’t dead on his feet, David would spend time cataloguing every trophy and award displayed. The retrospective was already on display in here.

Instead, they exchanged quick pleasantries and the wish for a nap with Patrick’s parents and were left alone. Then, David pulled at the hem of Patrick’s Henley, tugging until Patrick’s hands raised over his head and flipped the shirt off. The first sight that greeted him was Patrick’s chest, sprinkled with freckles and very fine hair. Then, once the shirt came free and Patrick was grinning at him with a goofy, too-tired smile.

A domino effect begins as they rid each other of their clothing, amidst shushing and giggles. David decides that it can all be folded up neatly later, once Patrick falls asleep, as he kicked his pants out of the way. Just in their boxers-briefs, with soft kisses and soothing hands, they stumbled over to the bed and fresh sheets.

It feels vaguely like what a high school hook up might have felt like with each of them pausing whenever footsteps could be heard in the hall. Except that high school David Rose had been high most of the time and hooking up in dirty corners of parties. He would not have gone home with star of sport and stage Patrick Brewer, whose mouth was currently sloppy with sleep.

Eventually, the inevitable happened and Patrick drifted off somewhere mid-kiss. David filed it away for later teasing as Patrick’s breathing evened out, sending warm puffs of air against David’s neck. He was still tempted to sneak around the room, taking in the various mementos, but weighed against the likelihood of startling Patrick out of sleep and the warmth and weight of his future husband against him, David closed his own eyes for another nap.


	4. Friendsgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick takes David to meet all of his childhood friends and it is confirmed that he is fully gay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Friends, welcome to the start of all the OCs. There will be more for the actual Thanksgiving. Please assume there are more than the named characters at the party, just like the randos at the Housewarming. Thanks._
> 
> _Also, in the immortal words of DJL, including things in your writing is like giving them permission to exist. I fully support his decision to work to eradicate hate from his writing and therefore the world. Expect the same from me. _

In the end, Patrick went to his latest Friendsgiving the same way he had gone to his first, in his Mom’s car. David had only made a few jokes until Patrick had reminded his fiancé that this was a driving choice so as to not die, and not a sharing a car with his parents thing. David had shut up pretty quickly.

Now, he was seated in the backseat of his moms car (because David has longer legs, Dear) with a Brussels sprouts and squash dish that had been his go to since his mom taught him to make it in high school.

“Well, I for one am very glad you’re going,” Mom began, “I know how much all your friends have missed you since you left. Every time I run into someone out shopping they say hello, ask after you.”

“Yup.” Patrick had forgotten what it felt like to be trapped in a car with his mom and a friend. He did not like it. “They also text me directly.”

“Yes, and you have not been very forthcoming.”

His fiancé, the asshole, turned around in his seat to stare at him. “No,” David mouthed.

“I mean, after visiting you and learning about the depth of your relationship with David, I understand what you weren’t saying,” His mom continued, oblivious to the antics of the full grown man sitting next to her. “I don’t know why. It wasn’t fair to David, certainly.”

“It wasn’t,” David mouthed.

Patrick mouthed back, “You just wait.”

“Promises,” David mouthed back and then he startled as a hand came to rest on his arm. Patrick couldn’t help but smirk.

“He’s very lucky you’re so understanding,” Patrick’s mom said to David.

“Coming out is intensely personal and people do it in their own time,” David told Mom softly, with no hint of the snarky tone that was implied with his mouthing to Patrick. He sounds quite like he did the fateful afternoon of Patrick’s birthday. “It would be cruel to rush anyone.”

Patrick’s mom just patted David, before taking her hand back. “Well, still he is very lucky. You boys just let me know when you need a ride home.”

“Yup.”

“Even if it’s early. Or late.” She just kept going. “And just like in high school, it doesn’t matter to me how much you’ve had to drink.”

“Mmhmm, yep.”

“You know,” David said, turning around in his seat again. “I don’t know if I have ever seen you have way too much to drink.”

“I am usually the one driving, David,” Patrick reminded him, hoping the conversation would end there. He should have known better.

“He’s learned to be cautious. There was one time he threw up all over the back of the car. We’ve never held it against him.”

“You made me pay for the detailing,” Patrick groaned, rubbing his hands over his face.

“Well, that’s just natural consequences, sweetheart. When you damage things you fix them.”

David looked back at him, eyebrows nearly to his hairline. Patrick just closed his eyes and wondered why he had come back for Thanksgiving. Oh, because he had missed his parents and his family and had told David so. Also, his mom had asked.

“I’ll take care of him, Mrs. Brewer, don’t worry.”

The turn signal came on and his mom pulled up to the curb “Alright, boys, here we are. Enjoy yourselves. Just text when you’re ready to come home.”

“Thanks Mom!”

Patrick threw his seatbelt off and was out the door in a flash. David clambered out of the front seat as Patrick came around the back of the car. Jake and Sheri’s sprawling ranch house laid out before them, up the path to their front door.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That,” David said, expanding the a so it was at least three, while pointing at the Brewer family car’s tail lights. “Is that like-hands on parenting? Was it always like that?”

“Yes.”

Patrick had occasionally been embarrassed by his parents and their involvement in his life. On the other hand, he had seen people whose parents were actually terrible to them. He would take every embarrassing story his parents liked to tell over the hell of not being loved.

“You threw up in her car?”

“Yes.” The night he had called his mom crying outside a motel to pick him up was mostly a blur. He wasn’t proud of it. “It was a rough night.”

Patrick began walking up the path. The only way to move now was forward and through. David’s footsteps fell in behind his own.

“And?”

“And I am not telling you the story out here.”

That was not a story he wanted to relive before he walked into a party with his childhood friends and his ex-fiancé. It was too close to home for that.

“She actually wants us to text her to get us, whenever we’re done.”

David still sounded confused, even though that wasn’t a question. Moira Rose would not take a two AM text message and then get in a car to get her child. She would probably send a stay safe text, if at all.

“Yes. I think it makes her feel useful.” And Patrick loved her beyond reason for it. “But this is why I never made it to a house party with a giant bowl of E.”

“Do you think they have E?” David asked as they stepped up to the door.

“David, I think we’ve all outgrown E. There will likely be other stuff though. Edibles are usually a big thing.”

“Like mushrooms?”

“David? Stop.”

Patrick took a deep breath and steeled himself. He raised his hand, pulled back and knocked on Jake’s door and tried not to feel weird about it. Two years ago he would have just opened the door and walked in to a room full of cheers.

But it wasn’t two years ago and his best friend and love of his life was standing next to him in a huge parka with a fur collar that no one would fully understand.

“Who the fuck knocks?” The door swung open and Sheri stood on the other side, her blond curls tumbling down her back. Thankfully, her face lit up with a smile. “Brewer, of-fucking-course! You would be the one to knock after not being here for two years.”

David carefully plucked the casserole dish out of his hands as Sheri went in for the hug. She smelled like heavy perfume and baby powder. Still, definitely not the shunning welcome that he had feared in his head.

“You didn’t come to my baby shower.”

“Sheri,” Patrick said flatly as he pulled back out of the hug. “I live over twelve hours away and it was your third kid. It was a sprinkle.”

Honestly, he felt more guilty not being here to take Jake out to get drunk because, three kids. But that man had made his bed with the blonde woman pouting at him.

“It was my first girl. You need brand new stuff for that.”

“Mmm.”

“Oh, you brought a friend.”

Patrick followed her gaze to the man holding the casserole dish to his left. Pride filled his chest and he wasn’t as worried as he had thought he would be. “David, this is Sheri. Sheri, this is David, my-“

Her blue eyes widened to saucers and her pointed chin dropped as she got a good look at him. “Oh my God! You’re David Rose!”

Patrick watched as David stiffened, using the casserole dish as a barrier, his face closing up. Fuck, he should have known Sheri, who had been obsessed with Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie, would clock David in an instant. He had gotten too used to Schitt’s Creek where no one gave three shits about celebrities of any letter. Sheri loved all of this trash. Fuck.

“Sheri, David is my fiancé,” Patrick made himself finish. Her blue eyes, dinner plates now, wheeled on him and Patrick swallowed and continued. “And what he chooses to tell anyone is entirely his business. We are not having a rehashing of your love of celebrity gossip or any questions you have answered. That is not what he is here for. We will leave.

“And anything said at this party does not go on the internet or I will tell my mom.”

It took a moment and her eyes came back to a more normal size. She shook her head, tossing her hair over her shoulder and she reminded him of Alexis for a minute. Alexis would eat her for lunch.

“God, Brewer, you make me sound like some kind of shark. I wasn’t planning on being rude. Come on in.” She turned on her heel and began walking down the hallway. “Almost everyone is here.”

“Did you just threaten that woman with your mom if she posts about me on the internet?”

“I would threaten her with your mom but she doesn’t know her yet,” Patrick whispered back.

“Patrick?”

“Our moms are best friends. We use that one a lot.”

“Also,” David hissed, “did you bring me to a party with kids, because I will go flag your mom down.”

“No. All kids get shipped out to grandparents for the night.”

Patrick was certain he heard David mutter, “Thank God,” under his breath.

The house looked the same as the last time he had been by Jake and Sheri’s place. It wasn’t David’s style as Sheri had bold decorating tastes in the way that David would say with a sneer. The big room was filled with familiar faces. Patrick took a deep breath in and let it out as his name, first and last, were shouted out like he had walked in after a successful game.

“You came!”

His eyes focused on Rachel as she slid out of one of the tall stools at the counter. Rachel flew at him and he found himself being hugged and it was familiar and not all at the same time. It was like how it had been when they were ten, which had been a lifetime ago.

“I’m so glad. You shouldn’t have to stay away forever on my account.”

“It’s like ripping off a bandaid, right?” Patrick asked, giving her what he was sure was a goofy smile.

“And you brought David.”

Bless Rachel, she actually sounded excited and Patrick had to take the dish back from David so he could be welcomed by Rachel as well. David just stared at him wide eyed as Rachel hugged him. Patrick just gave a silent chuckle and shrugged.

“Thanks for coming, man.” Jake clapped a hand on his back in welcome. “I was worried you wouldn’t.”

“Come on, I couldn’t stay away.” Rachel was examining David’s rings and Patrick thought he was safe enough to drop his voice to a whisper. “Um, we may need to disable your wife’s twitter later, depending on how fucked up David gets.”

“Brewer,” Jake responded, running his fingers through hair that was already sticking up. “I like sleeping in my own bed.”

“You have yet to meet my in-laws, but you will at the wedding. I promise you it’s for everyone’s safety.”

Alexis alone would ruin anyone for David, Patrick was sure of it. Alexis was the kind of person who was capable of great things and terrible things and didn’t think too hard about what she did with all her power. Mr. and Mrs. Rose didn’t know how to use twitter but they would find out somehow and if Mrs. Rose found out about anything negative there would be little anyone could do to save Sheri. Patrick hadn’t ever quite managed to fully enrage Mrs. Rose and he didn’t ever want to.

“Seriously?”

“I promise you. I’ve already threatened her with our moms.”

Jake just slid him a look with a raised eyebrow and Patrick just stared back. He wasn’t kidding with how all of this would go.

“Hey, Brewer brought good veggies!” Alex called out, grabbing the dish out of his hands and blowing him an air kiss on her way by. “The last two years we’ve had Rosen’s soggy ones.”

“Hey!” Ben yelled back, his black curls falling into his face.

“Party shot?” Shane came through with a giant tray.

The tray not only had the usual cups laid out along the tray in a variety of colors, but there were some in fruit rinds and others that were cut into little rectangles and layered.

“Um, these are fancy.” David’s face took on that happily surprised look as he surveyed the tray in front of him.

Rachel grinned at them both. “Shane gets fancier every year.”

“These are margarita and these are mojito.” Shane walked them through some of the different green ones. He pointed to a multi-colored layered one. “Sex on the beach.”

Patrick grabbed a quick one and moved further into the party. Alex and Ben were off in the corner of the kitchen, arguing over his dish. He hadn’t seen either of them since he had ended thing with Rachel.

“These are better than yours!” David called after him.

“Thanks.”

He sidled up next to Alex and she hugged him, her tight brown curls battering his face like an old memory. They had been in so many high school shows together, he was pretty sure he could pick up dancing with her again tomorrow. Ben towered over the both of them.

Alex pulled back and he was pulled into a hug with their tallest friend. Ben had been gangly at a young age and had never quite grown into his features. “Fucking nice to have you back, man.”

“So,” Alex said, pointing to where David and Rachel were still pouring over Shane’s party shots. “You never did officially introduce your friend.”

David picked up another fancy shot and Patrick wanted to take a picture of how awkward he looked. David would hate it.

His smile was probably huge as he said, “David is my fiancé.”

Alex crowed and her brown hand slapped against Ben’s chest. “Rosen pay up.”

“There should be a statute of limitations on this.”

“Nope.” Alex stuck her hand out for payment. “You owe me twenty bucks.”

“You don’t actually know if he identifies as gay. Guys can date other guys without being gay!” Ben’s protest was loud and wild.

Alex turned a wolffish grin his way. “Brewer, how do you identify? Personally?”

“When did you start this bet?” Patrick asked. It was the only question he wanted answered.

“Come on, Patrick,” Ben whined. “I’ve got twenty bucks riding on it.”

“Uh, well, you’re not going to like my answer then, Ben.” Patrick couldn’t help the smile that came out as he thought of the relief that had come when he had kissed David and everything had magically felt right. “I am fully gay.”

“Fuck!”

“Ha! I told you so.”

Ben pulled his wallet out if his back pocket and began taking the money out of his billfold.

“I just said,” Ben argued, holding the money just out of Alex’s reach, “That we would have known if he was gay because he would have tried to kiss someone.”

“No one wants to make out with you, Rosen.”

“You know what-“

“This looks like fun,” Rachel said, swinging into the conversation with an arm around Alex’s shoulders. She passed a party shot in a lime off to Patrick.

“How long has Johnson been running the side bet on me being gay?” Patrick asked her before biting the shot out of the rind.

“What?” Rachel’s eyes went wide and swung to Alex. Her hand slipped from around Alex’s shoulder.

Patrick hadn’t realized that Rachel and Alex kept anything from each other.

“Uh, you know. Not long,” Ben mumbled, clearly not reading the vibe. “Just since the second time you broke up.”

“Ten years?” Patrick heard in surround sound as both he and Rachel asked loudly.

“Ben was the only one dumb enough to take it,” Shane added, heading over to grab more shots out of the fridge.

“Someone was bound to be his type was my point,” Ben argued with the room in general.

“Look, man you never talked about getting it with Rachel,” Jake added, clapping him on the back as he came up.

“He was very respectful,” Rachel insisted. Her arms came around herself in a hugging motion.

“Oh, sweetheart, no.” Sheri shook her head at Rachel, tsking. “You want your man bragging.”

“Oh, gag me. Jake that’s gross.” Alex pulled a horrified face. “Is that what you told her?”

Ben even managed a smirk. “I mean, was it even bragging the first year?”

The room exploded with noise like it used to at the cafeteria tables in high school. Everyone talked over each other and Patrick stood in the middle of it, stunned. In all this time, he had never expected that his friends had already known and been taking bets on something he hadn’t been able to figure out.

“The point is,” Shane said loudly, managing to be loud enough they everyone stopped to listen. “If Brewer was straight he would have married Rachel right out of high school rather than the two of them playing the whole will they won’t they for another twelve years.”

“Is there a compliment buried in that bullshit?” Rachel asked, sharply.

“Let’s eat,” Alex commanded, tugging at Rachel’s arm.

Rachel shook her off but headed for the sideboard full of food. Everyone else seemed to move off but Patrick remained rooted. They had all known and no one had cared.

“This is something.”

Patrick looked up to see David smiling down at him. “Yeah.”

A silent conversation passed between them. David raised his eyebrows to ask after Patrick’s feelings and he gave a subtle head tilt to signal that he was ok. David nodded in relief and then fixed his face into a deep frown.

“It looks like there is food and I am not first.”

“Oh, are you going to starve?” Patrick asked, glad David had lightened the mood.

“No one likes me when I am hungry.”

“I always like you,” Patrick said, softly. He lifted David’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “We always make too much food. Come on, I won’t let you starve.”

David intertwined their fingers and giving Patrick’s a squeeze. They headed off toward the line and Patrick helped David weave into a higher position in line. Love was making sure your partner got fed.

In the end, there was food and yelling and laughter and it doesn’t feel as much like an old sweater but more like a glove that’s been in the closet waiting for the start of a new season. The first time out was always a little weird, there were stiff parts and recalling muscle memory to make it work with your hand. The longer you spent, working with the glove, remembered how it attached to your body and how you moved with it, the more it seemed like you never put it up on the shelf.

As easy as it was slipping back in, Patrick could safely say he did not want to move back. David hadn’t been wrong, he’d been avoiding coming back and in the process leaving looming questions unanswered. The answers weren’t the terrifying ones he had imagined but much more pleasing.

“Pass. Fuck!” David yelled, fully engrossed in the game.

Alex slid into the seat next to him and watched with Patrick as David continued playing Heads Up with his friends. “He’s acclimating well.”

Patrick felt his lips curve up of their own accord. David had made himself a space here and had done it for Patrick. “There are special brownies, food and games. He’s easy.”

Patrick knew most people wouldn’t categorize David as easy and, fuck, some days he wouldn’t either, but at the end of the day he was easier than anyone ever gave him credit for. He just was particular. Thankfully, this gathering had mostly run along David’s particular tastes. He’d managed to shush most of David’s feelings about Sheri’s decor and other off-putting things. They could debrief tomorrow.

Alex pulled her knees up to her body and rested her chin on them. “Do you think I hopelessly pissed off Rachel?”

“Lex, you’re her best friend.”

“I know and I was betting that your relationship was going to fall apart for years.”

“You weren’t wrong,” was all Patrick had for that one.

“Hell, I wished you’d said something to me sooner. I might not have spent so long hurting us both.” Patrick glanced down the neck of his bottle wondering how different things would have been if he’d known sooner. “Although I don’t because I don’t know if I would have met David.”

“I was so glad when you left the last time,” Alex said, quietly. “You did the right thing.”

Didn’t make the fallout harder. Though, it seemed like another life watching her play on the same team as David, Rachel laughing. “It was hard. Rachel’s so easy to love.”

He did still love her, just had never really loved her romantically. There was a carefully shaded difference that he could see now, years and a David Rose later.

“She really is.”

There was something in Alex’s tone, a longing, that was all too familiar. Patrick shifted his gaze from the game to the woman sitting next to him, curled into a ball and watching the same thing he had been a minute ago.

“Alex.”

“Leave it, Brewer,” she dismissed him quietly, curling further into herself. “It’s a different problem. Different story.”

“Well, if you ever need someone to talk to.”

He wasn’t sure how much help a newly out gay man would really be to a woman who had been in love with her best friend for years. Still, he wanted Alex and Rachel to be happy. They both meant to much to him.

Maybe Rachel didn’t notice things between them were weird for the same reasons he didn’t.

“Your fiancé is getting real heated over there,” Alex responded, pointing back to the game.

David was standing, hands splayed wide. “I’m just saying, if you had half a fucking brain cell in your head you would understand-“

Patrick didn’t need to hear the rest of the statement to know it wasn’t going to be positive. “He’s competitive.”

“Unlike other people,” Alex added, drily.

“Only a complete ignoramus would miss my meaning!” David continued.

Patrick unfurled himself from the couch and headed over towards the group that was playing. He reached out and out w hand on his fiancé arms. “David, how about we take a break?”

“No,” David spat, tone knife-sharp. “We were winning but some people can’t manage to understand clues like me.”

Definitely high as a goddamn kite. “I know, and you’ll show em next time. I think there might be dessert.”

“Dessert?” David asked, his head coming around to face Patrick and his expression losing its fury.

“Yup.”

Thankfully, David allowed Patrick to gently tug him from the circle and begin moving across the room.

“I’m just saying who doesn’t know that CoCo Chanel was the creator of Chanel.”

“I have no idea.”

David slung his arm over Patrick’s shoulder as they walked away from the game. It was a comfortable gesture and Patrick leaned into David.

“This wasn’t the worst party I have ever been to. The worst was this emo-fest Jack White threw. I think the brownies helped. Your friends are not the worst.”

“Thanks.”

David surveyed the table in front of him, hands falling to his hips. There was more dessert than the party could hope to eat. David could try to sample it all.

“I am going to need a bigger plate. Where the fuck did they hide those?”

Patrick gave a half-hearted look as David picked up a mini pecan tart and popped it into his mouth. Behind him, the conversation picked up again.

“Bonfire time?”

“Yes please.”

“Wait! I forgot.” Patrick turned back to the group at Rachel’s exclamation. “We got you guys a gift! ‘Cause you’re engaged.” Rachel scrambled from her spot on the couch to a bag that was piled by the hall to the bedrooms.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Patrick said.

Rachel glanced up from her bag and skewered him with an old, familiar look. “Are you saying gifts between ex-fiancés are not appropriate when one of them gets engaged?”

“I just-“ Patrick blushed, fumbling. He shot David a look of panic. David had no real response other than a shrug and a facial expression he wouldn’t want caught on camera. Thankfully, Rachel had gone back to her bag.

“You didn’t have to,” Patrick settled on finally.

Rachel finally held the gift in both hands, covered in a cream paper with golden bells. “Also, it’s not just from me. Think of it as a present from your oldest friends who just want to see you happy.”

She handed the wrapped gift over to Patrick. Patrick turned it over in his hands, examining it closely before using one finger to slide under a seam and carefully break the tape along the edge. Taking his time, in a move he always felt was this close to defusing a bomb, Patrick managed to leave the wrapping paper in one complete piece. He was left holding a framed print in his hands.

To a million other people, it would have been cheesy. To Patrick, in this moment, with all his fears of coming back here he couldn’t have asked for anything better. Tears started piling up in the corners of his eyes and he wasn’t even mad.

Patrick gave a wet laugh as he said, “Really?”

Inside the black lacquered frame was a black and white stylized Cinderella pattern overlaid with scripted lettering.

_Ten minutes ago, I saw you_  
_ I looked up when you came through the door_  
My head started reeling  
You gave me the feeling  
The room had no ceiling or floor

_Ten minutes ago, I met you_  
_ And we murmured our "How do you do's?"_  
I wanted to ring out the bells  
And fling out my arms  
And to sing out the news  
"I have found him, he’s an angel  
With the dust of the stars in his eyes  
We are dancing, we are flying  
And he’s taking me back to the skies

_In the arms of my love, I'm flying_  
_ Over mountain and meadow and glen_  
And I like it so well  
That for all I can tell  
I may never come down again  
I may never come down to earth again

“What is it? What is it?” David pestered.

Patrick passed the frame over to David and stared at his friends, those who had been in on the joke, grinning at him with wide smiles.

“Rachel has better taste in frames than you do,” David muttered absently as he took the frame on his own hands. It’s a shame she didn’t teach you how to pick them out.”

“Thanks, David,” Rachel called back.

“You know, the Brandy and Whitney Huston version of this is the best.”

“Yes,” Rachel agreed with David, and Patrick tried shooting her a look to get her to stop and she just kept going, “but what you don’t know, is that Cinderella was our musical senior year. Patrick, unsurprisingly, played Prince Topher. However, he hated this song so much. We had to listen to his rants for months about how it wasn’t an actual depiction of love and that wasn’t how it works and it’s not how it feels.”

Rachel’s brown eyes slid over to Patrick’s and she gave a soft smile. “Based on everything you’ve told me, I don’t think you feel that way anymore.”

He didn’t. Oh at 18 he and been quite certain that the song was a load of bull shit. He had complained, mostly to Alex, his dashing Cinderella, that it was shit. Alex had usually said she felt sorry for Rachel if that’s how he felt. Which based on their conversation five minutes ago he now had more questions.

He had believed it fervently, for years, until B13 had sat at his desk and described an immersive experience that was a general store but a very specific store. Patrick had been gone from the moment David had described Rose Apothecary as an environment and then settled on a branded immersive experience. He had been somewhere near the stars for the voicemails, writing the grant to get the money to hire himself, and those first few weeks trying to sort out what this rush had been. He should have known all along.

“Is there video?” David asked the room at large.

“Thank you,” Patrick said, hoping no one would confirm its presence to David.

Fuck, if these assholes were going to make him cry.

“Alright, Alright, enough.” Jake headed for the door, grabbing a can of kerosene that was by the door. “Let’s take this party outside.”

Everyone began moving at once. Like a well oiled machine, people began grabbing their usual responsibilities. Folding chairs were pulled out of closets, people pulled blankets out of the heavy chest at the back of the couch.

David stood stock still, framed print still in his hands. Patrick went to take it from him but David stared at him blankly, holding on tight.

“You alright?”

“I’m sorry,” David said, looking at the chaos around them and then back to Patrick. “Are you expecting me to go outside? Like, outside-outside? It is frigid and dark and I don’t think anyone knows what is hiding in those woods.” David waved one hand in a circle over the general direction of the plate glass slider.

Patrick couldn’t help but grin at his fiancé. “Well, you have your giant fashion parka, there will be a big ol’ fire that we can put you right next to and there are lots of blankets.”

“Besides,” Shane added, coming by with a giant tub of booze, “we haven’t had a bear wander into the bonfire area since college.”

“Bears?”

“There was the moose four years ago!” Ben added unhelpfully.

“_Moose!_” David squeaked.

“Hey, guys, leave off.” Patrick grabbed David’s face with his hands and pressed a fierce kiss to David’s face. He ignored all the whoops that happened behind his back as he looked David in the eyes when he pulled back. “You’ll be safe, I promise you.”

David’s eyes narrowed carefully and his mouth curled up in consideration. Patrick knew he had won when David’s eyes closed and his head slid back. “Fine.” David snapped his head back upright and Patrick swallowed a smile. “The second there’s a moth, I am coming back inside.”

“Oh, the fire usually gets them first,” Sheri said off-hand, carting a load of blankets by them on her way out the door.

“David. I promise.”

They stashed their frame and bundled up into coats, mittens and hats. Patrick kissed David again before they tromped outside with everyone else.

The bonfire this year was huge. Wood piled up well over everyone’s heads. Despite David’s grumbling about the chill, even his eyes were wide as the match hit the kerosene and the whole pile went up in a blaze.

Everyone arranged themselves around the fire. Old stories were shared, as were terrible jokes. A blunt was passed around the circle and the fun continued. Beers were pulled out of the tub and shared. It was a reunion episode of an old TV show and Patrick wasn’t sorry in the slightest to be back.

Looking around, he saw his friends in a new light. They weren’t people he had been hiding from all this time. They had seen him as he was and loved him though all of his own confusion. For Patrick, it was perhaps the greatest gift he could have gotten from tonight.

Patrick glanced away from the circle to the man beside him who hadn’t let him avoid this. David was asleep with his head tilted back and his mouth open a little, his mouth escaping in puffed breaths. Fuck, he loved this man behind reason, Patrick thought, as he pulled his phone out to text his mom. He couldn’t leave him like this, he’d never be forgiven, especially if David ended up with frostbite.

Patrick slid his phone back into his pocket, took another sip of his beer and sat back to listen to another story while he waited.


	5. Thanksgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David experiences his first real family Thanksgiving and has a lot of feelings along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [bayanungbituon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bayaningbituon/pseuds/bayaningbituon) for the amazing beta of this chapter. I couldn’t have done it without you.

David bit back the groan as pleasure coursed through him. Patrick’s lips covered his own, slanted and David arched up to meet him. However, even coming out of sleep David was painfully aware of his surroundings, and swallowed a groan. The trouble with being in your in-laws house was you had to be quiet when you wanted to be nothing of the sort, or when some people could barely manage it. They’d managed a few fumbling sessions so far, all the while trying not to get caught by the Brewers, since their arrival.

A morning session seemed bold but if David had to be up before noon, it was how he would prefer to wake up. He wanted to wrap his hand behind Patrick’s head and pull him closer but they still felt like lead. 

Sadly, the kiss slipped away and was replaced by a comforting slightly gravelly voice, “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

David opened his eyes to find not a fellow sleep-rumpled mate, but his fiancé fully dressed, fresh-faced and far too awake. The reality sank in that this was not going to be a good morning romp and instead was a dirty trick. David licked his lips, savoring the good morning kiss. He scrunched his face in an attempt to glare but David was fairly certain his face landed somewhere closer to self satisfied. 

“Umm,” Daivd hummed, reaching for the rudely removed comforter. “I am pretty sure your friends decided I am Cinderella, and it is too early to be awake.”

Patrick caught the comforter with one hand before David could submerge himself again. Warm brown eyes that were far too awake laughed at him. Patrick’s voice dropped as he whispered, “I thought you might want to know there is fresh breakfast.”

Averting his eyes from the man trying to tempt him awake with his favorite things, David was confronted with one of Patrick’s sexy forearms, blue shirt rolled all the way up to just above the elbow. Damn him! The sexy forearm flex was intentional. David closed his eyes and tried to think grumpy thoughts rather than sexy ones. He did not want to get out of this warm bed and be forced into the outside world, even for breakfast. 

“Mmm. Could you like…” David swallowed and opened his eyes to send a pleading look to his fiancé. His voice was definitely sliding perilously close to a whine. “Could you bring me a fresh plate up here? With you know, two of everything. At least,” he added finally. 

His stomach rumbled, making its presence known. Maybe he would need three of everything. Also, it was understood that two meant servings not items right? Two slices of bacon wasn’t even one serving of bacon. 

Patrick shook his head, smile not faltering but clearly unsympathetic to David’s plight. “No. Let’s go. Table’s ready.” 

Patrick had the audacity to clap at him like he was the family dog. Trouble was, David liked this level of machismo that Patrick occasionally produced, in small, tasteful doses. It did delightful swooping things to his stomach and firmed up some things. 

“It’s too early.”

Patrick was immune, the fucker. Instead, he cheerfully said, “Well, then I guess you’re not meant to have breakfast.” The bastard continued smirking at him. “There is also coffee.”

The pout and dismay didn’t have to be forced as David realized that Patrick had come empty-handed. “And you didn’t bring any?”

Patrick just grinned his evil, overconfident grin as he backed away from the bed. “Incentive.”

Patrick slid out of the room and David glared at the door. He should at least be given coffee to inspire his motivation to remove himself from the toasty cocoon of Patrick’s blue gingham comforter, which still smelled vaguely of fresh laundry but more of sex. Considering that Patrick left him up here, horny and hungry after the way he chose to wake his fiancé, David wanted retribution of some kind; preferably, the naked kind. 

Rather than follow the strict order of his fiance, David laid in bed and spun fantasies in his head. There could be benefits to a very tense, could-be-caught interlude arranged while Thanksgiving dinner was happening. David smiled to himself at the thought, sinking into the pillow. He could drag Patrick off to the bedroom or maybe the small rec room the Brewers had in the basement. David enjoyed the brief fantasy, but the thought of how messy that could become, depending on where things went, and embarrassing himself in front of Patrick’s entire family cooled his ardor. David would make him pay when the family left. 

The house smelled amazing now that Patrick had opened and closed the door to the bedroom twice. There was the warm roasted smell of coffee permeating the air. Coffee always smelled better than it tasted, which was why David preferred his laden with milk and sugar. Mingled in was the smell of something delightfully doughy. David’s stomach gave a traitorous rumble. 

“Fine,” David grumbled to himself. He peeled the comforter back and instantly shuddered at the blast of cold air. He had been warm enough to fall asleep unclothed after they had finished last night. Now, David regretted his lack of a sweater, as he shifted his feet to the slippers he had had the foresight to pack for chilly, northern floors. 

Last night’s sweater was folded over the rolling desk chair and David slid it on over his head. Catching himself in the mirror, David caught another cow lick and bags that Alexis would have packed for an adventure overseas. Gremlin indeed. 

Fuck. He only had one shot for a first meeting with Patrick’s extended family. A family who celebrated his birthday with him every year as a child. The family clearly adored him, and since Patrick had been carefully coming out since his birthday a few months earlier, most of them knew to expect David would be along behind. However, photos on social media were meticulously curated by David and the extended Brewer clan could not be introduced to real life David Rose as a complete mess. 

First though, an outfit. A full look that would project a stable and very stylish man that this family was going to entrust Patrick to. Once that was in place he could begin his routine and get dressed to go downstairs. 

Saturday morning, David had opened Patrick’s closet to find another monotonous monochrome set of uninteresting items. David had surreptitiously emptied the closet while explaining again how monochrome could work when you added visual interest in other ways. Patrick, being his damn blasé self, had just nodded and agreed to figure out what he would keep and donate while David had loaded the contents of his suitcases in the closet. Patrick had asked if it was necessary, and David had sent him an incredulous look. 

“If we are going to make this hideous drive a few times a year, the least I can have is a closet to keep my wardrobe from being destroyed in,” David said. 

David had seen the little smile flutter on Patrick’s face as David mentioned coming to visit the Brewer’s more often. Patrick didn’t follow that, instead he went with a sarcastic, “Oh, we couldn’t have wrinkles.”

“You mock me, but we don’t have a decent steamer that travels.”

Now, the closet was stocked with everything that David had packed into his actual clothing suitcases. David began sifting through the sweaters and pants, trying to put together the ideal outfit. Everything hung neatly on cedar hangers he had picked up while shopping with Mrs. Brewer for new holiday decor. David had planned several statement outfits in advance while he packed them, but now that he was here, David found himself second guessing. Should he go Gucci or Givenchy? Was this a time for Alexander McQueen’s bold style or the more classical ideas of Chanel? Everything was seasons out of date but having seen his in-laws’ outfits, David doubted that anyone would know any different.

David’s eyes were crossing from standing and staring at the closet when hands came down on his shoulders and squeezed. The shuddering jump was instinctual but David knew those hands by heart. David forced himself to take a breath in and let it out and relax, leaning back into Patrick’s body. He wondered how long he had been standing here, not really moving as he worked and reworked combinations in his head. 

“Hey, we lost you up here did we?” Patrick’s voice curled warm in his ear. 

“Selecting an ideal outfit for the day you are to be introduced to your intended’s family takes time,” David acerbically returned. His body betrayed him by relaxing against Patrick. 

“Intended?” Patrick asked, pushing at David’s shoulders to turn him around. His smile was soft, despite the teasing. “Is this the Victorian era?”

“Look, you’ve met all my family! Well,” David amended, stopping to consider that wasn’t exactly true. “No one deserves to meet Aunt DeeDee, she’s awful. But everyone I love; you know!” And the people he actually loved were a small enough group to fit into a booth in Cafe Tropical, if they crammed. Patrick’s family that had been mentioned or referred to seemed to be enough to fill the whole damn restaurant. 

“I now have to make a very good impression on a small army of people, all of whom love you very much.”

Yesterday, David hadn’t realized just how anxious he was over this stupid traditional holiday shit. Hell, a week ago, he would have said he was fine. Standing in Patrick’s childhood bedroom, half naked and just wearing a sweater, he could feel that the nerves had been here all along, bubbling under the surface and waiting for the right time to jump out and swamp him. David had been so focused on getting Patrick through coming out to his entire family, he hadn’t noticed his own worries underneath. 

Patrick could see it. The man somehow always saw him. “David, right now you just need to come downstairs and eat something. Also, you and my mom bought several bags of new decorations-“

“Hers needed some updating,” David interrupted. Had they gotten carried away? Certainly, considering the limited budget, but he wasn’t sorry. She’d have the best looking table for miles around, David was certain. “No one needed the quilted turkey circa 1965.”

“Mmm. And she is very excited to start directing my dad and me in setting up but knowing you, there’s probably an artistic vision.” David’s eyes narrowed as Patrick kept a neutral expression but his eyes danced with amusement. “A mood boarded color scheme.”

David threw his head back, “That had to be done before shopping, because-“

Two capable hands came to rest on his chest, and David was sad Patrick didn’t give him a little squeeze. The effectiveness of just being touched to interrupt him was still there, and Patrick said, “My point is, put on an outfit for breakfast and decorating and then come up and change before three.”

“That is a very quick turn around.” David cringed thinking about what needed to be done. “I will need to be back up here by two at the latest.”

There was definitely a shower needed and several products that he probably should have already used on his face to prepare for today. David glanced back at the closet behind him which mocked him with several serviceable looks, but did it hold the right one? Had he missed the key sweater in his attempts to pack? His mother had interrupted him every five minutes with questions about wigs and his dad had kept asking how to post things to different social media platforms but calling every one of them a wrong name. Damn them for distracting him while he had been preparing. 

He felt something tap his hands and turned his head away from the closet. Patrick was pushing a travel cup at him. “What’s this?”

The travel cup was pressed into David’s hands, Patrick gave him a sheepish smile and David felt his heart turn over. “I should have brought the coffee, the first time. Let’s get you downstairs and you can inform everyone of the vision and we can carry on without you if need be.” 

David highly doubted that they could, considering the mishmash of decorations had been only slightly better than Nana Budd’s Christmas decorations. He became distracted as Patrick looked him up and down slowly. A shiver ran up his spine and he could feel his face contorting into some sort of smile-blush combo. “But first, pants.”

“I am not going downstairs in last night's sweater or with my hair like this.”

“David.”

“Alright! Give me five minutes,” David lied, knowing he would need at least fifteen to be even initially ready to be seen by anyone who didn’t wake up with him almost every morning. . “And have another coffee waiting for me downstairs.”

David turned away, taking a sip of coffee, filled with skim milk and sugar, and headed to find a relatively clean pair of joggers and a sweatshirt that he could wear while he was dirty that wouldn’t make him feel grosser when he put it on. Underwear, that he was going to get dirty instantly, or going commando in front of Mr. and Mrs. Brewer? Which was worse? David wondered as he walked away from Patrick.

“Okay.” Patrick agreed, and David could hear the door creak open. Patrick and the door paused, “Just promise me, when you come downstairs you won’t say anything about my mom’s vest?”

“Why?” David asked confused, turning back to look at his fiance hovering in the doorway. “What vest?”

Patrick just shook his head. “We’ll process it later. Just promise me.”

“Fine, I promise.”

Forty-five minutes later, David was polishing off his second plate of breakfast while the Brewer males arranged the mismatched tables in the extended dining/living space. When he walked into the kitchen he realized instantly why Patrick had made him promise to say nothing about the vest. It was hideous, which was the nicest thing he could say about it. The vest was quilted and covered with a variety of different Thanksgiving images, like cornucopia, gourds, turkeys, in a wild arrangement that didn’t quite make sense. He had swallowed all his comments and just smiled as Mrs. Brewer had given him a hug and set him down at his place on the island with a full plate of food and a fresh coffee with almond milk. He would let anything go for this angel who had made him breakfast and provided him with caffeine. 

Now they were deep into the work of fixing up the larger space. While David had eaten his first plate, Mrs. Brewer had made Patrick and his dad move out all of the larger pieces of living room furniture to the edges. 

“I don’t love that the tables are all so different,” David groused, biting off a piece of bacon. 

“I think we blew the budget for tables on the decorations, David,” Patrick told him with a tight smile, holding up one of the tables that he and Mr. Brewer were in the process of repositioning. 

“Also, those fold up, honey.” Mrs. Brewer said, rubbing his arm, and pointing at one of the long tables. “We don’t always need seating for over 25.”

Davit bit his lip as he regarded the space. “Well, shabby chic is the vibe we are going for here. The mismatch will help but those tables are so,” David wrinkled his nose, “sterile.”

“David is worried about making a good impression on the family,” Patrick told his family, kindly but it sounded patronizing to David’s ears. 

“I am not worried.” He was exceptionally worried. “Who wouldn’t love me?”

Everyone who had ever met him before the incident had bankrupted his family and even several people since then. His family had to love him, Stevie was her own kind of weird and Patrick had some sort of weird kink for utter morons, David had already decided. 

Marcy beamed at him, not catching his sarcasm or if she had, ignoring it totally. “Exactly. I think we made a good shopping team.”

“We did,” David agreed. 

“Can I put this damn table down now?” Clint asked quietly. 

“Clint!” Marcy whispered, furiously. 

The whole room stayed silent for an uncomfortably long time. This was why Patrick never swore out loud, David realized, and would even, infuriatingly, cut himself off from actually saying the word fuck. His dad had been chastised for calmly saying damn table. David still adored them, their stupid happy sitcom family, and their love of mid range denim that came from shopping malls, and tacky vests. 

“Marcy, can the table go here?” Mr. Brewer asked in a clipped tone that reminded David of Patrick when pushed to the edge but was trying to be polite. David loved seeing the ways Patrick was made up of different parts of his parents. 

Mrs. Brewer’s eyes slid to his and David nodded and David managed a choked, “That looks great.” He swallowed the laughter and the awkward sense that he had somehow sort of become in charge of the whole event. “Let’s get the table cloths and start covering the tables with the base cranberry ones and covering them with the ivory overlays.”

David and Marcy continued pulling out supplies, ordering their men to put things in their proper places, and fixing them once they had been put down haphazardly. By the time it was done, the tables might have had disposable plates, but at least they were the fancy kind that had a silver rim around the edge, and the flowers might have been fake, but they were better than nothing. 

“Martha wouldn’t be too disappointed, considering our budget and time constraints. I am going to leave you to finish because if I do not get started on this,” David’s hands moved to gesture all over his body. “It will never be repaired.” 

Marcy leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. “You already look lovely, but I think we have this.”

The blushed crept up David’s neck towards his face unbidden. His whole body gave a slight shake along with his head as David worked back to focus on “Alright, I will be down for my final approval in an hour- maybe an hour and a half.” 

With that, David turned tail and disappeared up the stairs and away from the kindness of the Brewers and up to a shower that he knew was waiting for him. The closet full of sweaters still mocked him, but he would figure it out. 

~*~

David stood in front of the full-length mirror in Patrick’s bedroom. How he had thought an hour was enough to be ready, David wasn’t sure. His hair wasn’t awful now that he had dried and styled it. He wouldn’t embarrass anyone. He’d seen plenty pictures of curly haired Patrick thanks to Mrs. Brewer and her boxes of photographs. Mrs. Brewer had let him wear his hair rather wild, or she said he usually ruined any style within fifteen minutes of her fixing his hair. Some of the family photos from holidays showed children in various states of disarray. These were not orderly people. 

The sweater he ended up selecting was a black Versace with a Borrocca print in blue that swirled over the sweater in looping patterns that looked like blue flames burning out of the black. David smoothed his hands down the front of the relatively fitted sweater for his taste and decided he actually liked it. Normally, he would have bypassed this sweater in favor of something more monochrome, but blue was definitely the color of the Brewers. They all wore some variation of blue every goddamn day. Choosing to wear blue with his sweater, was like choosing to be a part of the family, fully. David had never wanted to belong so badly before. 

David looked down at his hand and the combination of rings. David slid the one from his middle finger and put it on the top of his left index finger. They glinted in the light from the window, sending off golden sparkles. Not loving that placement either, he slid it off and moved the displaced ring to the top of his left ring finger.

“Lost you again, did we?” Patrick’s voice came from the doorway. 

David caught Patrick’s eye in the mirror and tried to stop his fingers from moving his engagement rings around. Patrick had on a button up with a light floral design hidden in it, again rolled to his elbows. He looked handsome and put together and David wanted to suggest they skip meeting everyone and just hole up here in the full sized bed. 

Instead, David gave a vague shrug and waved his hands. “We knew I would need at least an hour to prepare.”

David smoothed out the front of his sweater again and watched as Patrick walked up toward him. They looked good together, he thought, still very clearly in their own styles but complementary. Patrick’s shirt was tucked into light tan chinos that made David think of the early days of his relationship. David’s sweater was over his favorite skirt overlay and some carefully chosen ripped designer jeans that Patrick often would mock because holes could be added to pants for free. 

“We did,” Patrick agreed.

“Did you finish the mashed potatoes?”

“I did.”

David regarded their portrait in the mirror. “They better be good.”

“Don’t worry. They will be.” Patrick’s hand closed over David’s that were playing with the rings. “Everything is going to be great.”

David took a deep breath in and it came out shaky and nervous. Fuck. He didn’t need this right now. He was not going to lose it right before he had to go meet all the Brewers. 

“David, how many people used to come to your mom’s parties?” Patrick asked, seeming to read David’s mind. 

“That was different. The house was huge and there were places to hide, and the people didn’t matter to me.” David shook his head and felt his hands flutter as his eyes squeezed shut. “I didn’t care if those people liked anything more than my outfit for the day.”

David knew they’ve already had this conversation today, or at least a version of it. Patrick has pointed out his nerves and David has prepared the house as best he could on a budget and the time constraints of hosting anything before seven PM. 

Patrick rubbed his hands up and down David’s arms, which sent prickles through his body. “David, my family is going to love you.”

“You don’t know that. I have not, historically, been easy to love.”

The last two years have been wonderful, but didn’t erase, fully, the thirty years that came before. The miracle of Patrick loving him still felt like an anomaly. The idea that all these people who grew up as far away from his own upbringing as possible would actually like him on first introduction seemed ridiculous. 

Patrick framed his face with steady hands. David froze as Patrick stared at him, Patrick’s smile slipping into a more solemn face. David’s eyes kept flitting over Patrick’s face while his fiancé kept his gaze trained on David. 

“David,” Patrick began, slow and careful, but completely steady. “I wasn’t kidding when I said that loving you and wanting to marry you was the easiest decision of my life.” His serious face bloomed into a smile. “My parents were in love with you before they even got to my birthday party. I promise you, here, you will be safe.”

“I just want them to not be sorry that I am the person you’re marrying.”

“Impossible. My family could never be sorry that I get to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Fuck, Patrick was going to make him cry. David put his hands on Patrick’s waist before sliding them around to hold on. Patrick’s arms entwined around David’s neck and a comforting kiss was pressed along his throat. It felt stupid, needing this level of comfort on a day that wasn’t even really about him. 

“I was supposed to be comforting you,” David pouted, talking into Patrick’s hair. “You were exceptionally worried about this weekend before we left.”

“I, occasionally, hide it well. How about you hold my hand? I might find that comforting.”

David felt the corners of his mouth lifting, despite the feeling Patrick was mocking him. “I suppose I could manage that. You washed your hands?”

“David.” Patrick’s laugh was light and filled with love. Even when Patrick laughed at him, David never felt bad about himself, unlike so many people who had come before. “Yes, I washed my hands when I finished helping with food.”

“That would be acceptable, then,” David agreed with a sharp nod. “I will hold your hand for your comfort.”

Their fingers slipped together like puzzle pieces and David felt the warmth radiate up his arm and into his own body. They didn’t often hold hands. Patrick usually slipped his hands deep into his pockets like the secrets to the universe were inside them. David’s hands became wild when he was worried, moving faster and faster with his words to illustrate his points. Holding onto each other instead was novel and David thought he could get used to it. 

Once upon a time, David had been used to parties that would have been considered a grand squeeze in Regency England. His parents knew how to pack in a mansion, full of guests and staff and entertainment. The Brewers house was small in comparison and they were their own staff, but when people started arriving everything felt very cramped. More women with hideous sweaters, some knit and some quilted, arrived. Marcy’s sisters were round and short like her and they all shared a familiar laugh. She also had a brother who came in with a firm haircut and called Patrick, PJ, which David frowned deeply at before he could fix his face. Clint’s siblings were tall and broad, though his sister was thinner than her brothers. Patrick had like a million cousins, some of whom were children and some who had children. 

David shook hands with people who did not use hand sanitizer first and he hugged new people more times than was good for anyone. People kept talking to him like they knew him: about his mom on Sunrise Bay, and how much they missed going to Rose Video because it was so convienent (which was just dumb because he loves his dad but streaming was a revelation) and about the store they’ve never been to and how David had made sure Patrick had gotten to see his parents. Mostly, David nodded and smiled a smile that became more brittle as time went on having nothing to talk about other than himself. 

Eventually, the house was full and David didn’t have anywhere to hide and regroup. He wandered into the kitchen where Marcy and her sisters were putting the finishing touch on desserts and putting things into the top of her double stacked oven. He wandered farther and got caught by two of Patrick’s cousins, a woman whose name started with an M and may have been a Maria or a Maureen, and who he thought was her sister or sister-in-law. They asked him questions about the wedding he wasn’t prepared to answer, because they had only been engaged for six weeks and the mood boarding was hard with Alexis FaceTiming in from the Galapagos and having to go to the motel to print out pictures. They showed him pictures of their own weddings and he tried to keep a really positive face as bouquets made of daisies and men in shorts are paraded in front of him. He later got caught up with one of Patrick’s aunts - he thought she was related to Mrs. Brewer - who wanted to talk to him about her skin with her current kidney issues. 

Eventually, David slid out of another conversation and turned a corner to see a male cousin pull out a giant knife. David froze, because the knife looked like it belonged somewhere that was not a house. The knife was large and very sharp on one side and has a serrated part on the other. Quite frankly, it looked like a murder knife. Looking down, David realized they had an array of knives spread out on the table. Kids shrieked in the background and while David didn’t care for children, he knew that you probably shouldn’t have knives around them. 

Motion returned to David as quickly as it had left. He bustled off to go find Patrick. David spotted him off to the side by the food that was set out before they sat down to dinner. David quickly wove through the various aunts and uncles and cousins and whatever you called the little kids and made it to Patrick’s side with minimal interaction and tight smiles. 

“Umm, so two of your cousins have knives and are comparing them. Like, knives,” David hissed at Patrick, who was carefully shifting the appetizers on the sideboard. 

“What? Oh, Paul and Steve. Yeah,” Patrick gave a casual shrug, not looking at David as he talked. A frown briefly crossed his face as he continued, “Mom makes them leave the guns at home when she hosts, but the knife collection usually comes out. Steve is a big collector.”

“Guns?!”

Patrick shrugged, again, infuriatingly calm. “Hunting is a thing. We also do a lot of hiking in this family. Knives come in handy for lots of things.“

“I have been hunting,” David insisted, his tone bordering on imperious.

Patrick paused to give David a grin. “I know. I love when Stevie retells that story.”

David’s face fell into a flat line with slitted eyes. “It doesn’t need repeating.”

Patrick leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek before going back to fidgeting with the platters. David found a slight blush moving over his cheeks. He had thought the PDA might have been toned down in front of the Brewers, but Patrick had kept up with all of the usual little touches and kisses that flowed through their days at the store. David busied himself with filling a plate with all the small snacking items that line the sideboard. People arrived laden with bags and more food, bringing with them some not awful looking treats. 

His plate became crowded as he heaped on more snacks. David popped a deviled egg into his mouth to make room and chewed before plucking some more finger foods for his plate. 

“Patrick, it’s so nice to see you.”

David looked up to see another plump woman with a knit sweater vest - grey on top and a cornucopia spilling various fruits and vegetables on the bottom -pulling out of a hug with Patrick. Patirck smiled at her, taking both of her hands and his and said, “Thanks, Aunt Julie.”

“You know, your mom has been so upset these past few years without you coming home.”

David watched Patrick’s mouth get tight before expanding back into a smile that wasn’t quite real. His hands slid back out of his aunt’s. “I called every time. This year was really the first year we could afford to close the store without compromising our profit margins. It’s a long drive for small trips.”

David caught Patrick’s hand and held it before it could dip into his pocket. He gave it a squeeze and stood up straight next to Patrick. David was not going to let any of Patrick’s family make him feel bad about any of his decisions. 

Before David could say anything, Aunt Julie was already wheeling on him. “And David, we have heard so much about you from Marcy since she came back from Schitt’s Creek.”

“Oh.”

“She said the store is lovely. The gift basket you made her was wonderful.”

“Oh, well,” David managed, as he now knew this wasn’t going to need his sharp tongue, “if you ever want to come and visit, other than for the wedding, we would be glad to show you around. Or you know, for the wedding.”

Fuck, he was rambling. 

Kids blew past him at full speed and David startled, jumping closer to Patrick.. One of Patrick’s cousins was yelling at them not to run in the house. No one else seemed at all bothered that they had nearly been run over or that their ears were being assaulted. He readjusted himself and smiled at Patrick’s aunt. 

A hand came to rest on his wrist above his plate. David now had no hands with which to eat his plate and he very much hoped Patrick’s aunt didn’t tilt his wrist and inadvertently spill his plate. “I have such a hard time with skin products. I have eczema and a lot of products don’t help.”

“Actually, we have a vendor who makes some really wonderful creams to help treat eczema. I think I brought one of them. Let me run and grab it and we can try it out.”

David ended up having a full station of products lined up in the living room and had been approached by various aunts and cousins once he set up shop. He worked the room like he would work the store and it felt nice to be appreciated and respected as he talked about different products and why they stocked them. Conversations drifted to the proposal story, with a half and half split if hiking qualified as romantic, and circled back around to wedding planning and there were questions about Sunrise Bay he couldn’t answer at all. 

Eventually, calls for dinner rang out. Everyone’s voices blended together, kids were shrieking, it sounded like a pack of animals were thundering through the house. David could barely hear himself think. 

He took some time to pack away products that were not being sold back into his case while the family stampede made its way to the table arrangements. David wished he had made Mrs. Brewer commit to actual place cards at the tables to assign seating as he continued fitting creams and lotions into the modified suitcase. She had been so insistent that they didn’t need them, but he wasn’t entirely sure where he was going to sit. Patrick would save him a seat though, right? That was what fiances were supposed to do-make sure you never sat awkwardly by yourself at parties ever again. 

Zippering the case, David decided he needed to go find Patrick. He slid it behind the chair to find later and straightened. Looking around the room, David noticed Patrick’s Grandma, the elder Mrs. Brewer, still sitting in the armchair in the corner where she had been in most of the day. Her hair was coifed in a swirl that spoke to the days where people went to the salon weekly to ensure perfect hair. 

David walked over toward her, nerves thrumming through his body. “Um, hi, Mrs. Brewer. Did you want to go have dinner?” David managed, his voice copying the pattern of a car when David tried driving stick. 

Mrs. Brewer had kind, brown eyes that reminded him sharply of Patrick. “Yes, dear. I was just waiting for the horde to leave. Clint always saves me a seat.”

“I could, uh, escort you, if you’d like.”

“Thank you, David.”

David extended his arm out to help lever Mrs. Brewer out of her chair, and she tucked a papery hand through his elbow as they slowly made their way to the dining area set up. 

“You’re a very inventive young man with all those products.”

“Oh, I didn’t--I don’t make them or anything. I just, rebrand them.”

“It takes a lot to do all that. I ran my own store for awhile, just a hodge-podge of things. Patrick always used to sit at the register and take orders. My grandson is smart. He wouldn’t have taken to you if you weren’t as well.”

The blush spread violently and David wasn’t sure what contortions his face took on at the compliment. No one had ever called him smart a day in his life. He managed a nod and an “Mmhmm,” that didn’t sound entirely strangled as they made their way to the table.

He brought Patrick’s grandma over to the table Mr. Brewer was heading, a seat just to his left open for his mother. David went to disentangle himself from the elderly woman when she smacked one of Clint’s brothers on the shoulder. “Move, Ed, I want to sit next to my newest grandchild.”

“Oh, I…”

But Uncle Ed was already up and moving and Grandma Brewer, as David was now going to refer to her in his head to not get confused, sat and gestured to the empty seat next to her. “Sit.”

“Okay.”

David ended up sitting, pulling the chair out and squishing himself into a too narrow space with Patrick’s family and not a single seat open for Patrick. David scanned the room, finding Patrick on the other side of the room, a seat empty next to him. Patrick’s face transformed into a silent question of Are you ok? David sent back a silent I think so. 

At some point, small platters to serve food family style were brought out. There was turkey, which only looked slightly dry, and a squash dish that had been liberally dusted with cinnamon. Green bean casserole came around with a thick border of something crunchy around the top. David took helpings of almost everything but the pearl onions, which honestly looked like eyeballs floating in cream and made him feel vaguely nauseous just looking at them. 

Conversation flowed around the table and across to others in a pattern that David wasn’t familiar with. Stories that had clearly been told repeatedly were shared with interjections from various people around the room, whether they were at the same table or not. It was loud and chaotic to the point where you couldn’t hear the scrape of silverware against porcelain like you could have at the Thanksgivings of his youth.

Smothered in gravy, the turkey wasn’t terrible, David thought as he chewed carefully. Patrick’s mashed potatoes were fluffy and creamy and David was left with irrational anger that Patrick had never made them specifically for him. David would make sure that they fixed this issue at home. 

The stuffing however, was a revelation, with sausage and spices mixed together and David wanted to figure out how to get more of it now that the bowl was at the other end of the table and looked mostly empty. 

“David, I really like the sweater today.”

Mr. Brewer was dressed in the same outfit he had worn to Patrick’s surprise birthday, complete with the same suit coat that had now been abandoned to the back of his chair. David from before would have definitely been insulted by a compliment from someone whose fashion choices were so limited. Instead, David felt more confident in his choice to mirror the Brewers in his own way. 

“Thanks, Mr. Brewer.” David watched as someone at the end of the table scraped what was left of the stuffing onto their plate. “There wouldn’t be any way to get my hands on some more of this stuffing would there?”

Mr. Brewer gave him a conspiratorial smile and dropped his voice to a whisper. “I always hide a secret stash in the kitchen. We can go get some later, we just can’t signal that’s what we’re doing. The vultures will descend.”

“Alright.”

Dinner continued with David mostly listening to the greater Brewer family conversations, occasionally adding in comments when they made sense. He and Mr. Brewer did sneak away to fill their plates with more stuffing only to be caught by Mrs. Brewer, who was in the kitchen for the same reason. They headed back to the table, trying to be subtle, but a whole argument broke out over hidden stuffing and David hid his smile while he ate. 

Eventually, the meal came to an end and people drifted off to do dishes in the kitchen or set themselves up in front of various sports things on television that he couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to. David stayed in his seat at the table and oscillated between contentment and shame over how much he had eaten. 

A gentle buzzing started in David’s back pocket, continuously consistent. Stevie was a texter and Patrick was here in the room and his parents could barely work a phone, so who the fuck? 

David fished his phone out and saw Alexis’s face with the words FaceTime underneath. Patrick was engrossed in conversations with his cousins, relaxed and happy, so David slid the digital bar across the screen while levering out of his seat.

“Alexis, I am busy at Patrick’s house,” he hissed, heading off to move himself out of the view of most of the family. 

“I know that, silly. We just had a virtual Thanksgiving with Ted’s mom. It was so cute. They cooked the same food from the same recipes, and we ate them together.”

David’s face twisted into a sneer. “Cute. I’m going to go-“

Alexis interrupted him, practically humming with excitement.. “I thought we could maybe have dessert together. Wouldn’t that be so cute, David?”

“Hi, Mrs. Brewer!” Alexis chirped, waving and David glanced over his shoulder to see his future mother-in-law coming up behind him. When he turned back to the phone, Alexis was pinching her curls and running her hands down them repeatedly. “David is hiding me here in the corner but what I have seen of the house looks great.”

“David helped quite a bit with decorating. We couldn’t have done half as well without him.”

David tilted his face down, feeling a blush spread, before looking back up. How many times had he helped out with decorating at home and had never felt quite as proud as he did being a part of the Brewers’ celebration. 

“Ooh, David, remember the year mom let us help order the ice sculptures?”

“Yeah. She didn’t particularly like our additions of peacocks along with turkeys once someone pointed out to her that they weren’t the same bird.”

“Are you having a good day, Alexis?” Mrs. Brewer asked rather loudly towards the phone. 

“Yes,” Alexis beamed, shimmying as she talked. “We just did a sweet little virtual Thanksgiving with Ted’s mom and I wanted to do virtual dessert with David and all of you.” 

“I can’t be on the phone the whole time. I have pie to try.”

Unbothered, Alexis waved off his concern by tossing her hair behind her shoulder. “You can pass me around. Where is my button of a brother-in-law?”

“Nope! No. Not happening.”

“What are we doing in the corner?” Patrick asked, coming up beside them as if summoned. 

Alexis’s stupid bunny hands came up almost to her chin as she gave an exagerated pout. “David is preventing my virtual Thanksgiving plans, Patrick!”

“Eat nails,” David shot back.

Patrick pried the phone out of David’s hands, leaning up to press a kiss to David’s face and smiled at Alexis. “David is just in withdrawal from dinner. He’s dying for pie.”

“You mean like this,” Alexis held up a piece of perfectly cut pie and grinned at David. She lifted a forkful to her mouth and began. “Mmm, yum yum, David.” 

“We already agreed that you would never use that phrase again. This is harassment and I will not have it.”

“Mmmmm,” Alexis continued, eyes closed as she slid the fork between her lips and began eating the pie. 

“This isn’t even having dessert together,” David shot back at her, finding himself suddenly hungry again.

David found Mrs. Brewer’s arm woven through his own. “Why don’t you help me set up the pies and you can have the first slice of whatever you want?” she asked gently. “Patrick can entertain Alexis for a little while.”

David allowed himself to be led away while Alexis and Patrick chattered at each other. He was tucked back into the kitchen as pies that ranged from an amazing chocolate one to an apple pie with a dome that towered above the pie pan. In between, were a variety of other pies. 

“Will you do the honors?”

David accepted the knife and stared at one of the pies that had a yellowish hue peeking out of the holes on the top. “Uh, you should know that I am allergic to pitted fruits, so we can’t use the knife on that one.”

“I’ll take care of it David, no worries.”

An actual plate slid across the counter to him. David glanced up at Mrs. Brewer as she lifted the peach pie out of the way and brought it over to her side. “That one’s just for you, David. No one likes to take the first slice. If you do, it will encourage everyone to start.”

David smirked at her as he began to cut into the swirled top of the chocolate pie. “Just know, you may come to regret that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Short epilogue to follow. Comments and kudos are always appreciated. On tumblr under the same name.


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick closes out his first Thanksgiving as an out gay man with an amazing fiancé and there are a lot of feelings. There is also some sexy times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [bayanungbituon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bayaningbituon/pseuds/bayaningbituon) for the amazing beta of this chapter. I couldn’t have done it without you.
> 
> Also, thanks to the encouragement of the Goshi Squad and the recommendations of always choosing “both” with soft feels options. They are to blame.
> 
> Also, this was supposed to be short. It is not. I blame David, Patrick and his parents for being too much to keep short.

Patrick undid the buttons down the front of his shirt and watched as David used the mirror he had propped up on the wall to apply his routine night creams and serums before bed. When he was packing for this trip, Patrick couldn’t see how his old life would integrate with the new one he had built with David. Now, before and after had melded into a place where David was woven throughout every aspect of Patrick’s life.

Today - the whole weekend really - Patrick had not needed to hold David’s hand through most of the events. Mostly, he had made initial introductions and got David over the worst of his anxiety and David handled the rest. Despite his general dislike of other humans, David had put himself out there for Patrick’s sake. Whenever they were separated today, Patrick had glanced across the room and caught David in various interactions with his family. Only occasionally were there deep frowns and wrinkled brows and the rare curl of disgust in David’s lips. Mostly, David had charmed the pants off of his family, much like he had with Patrick the first time they had met.

“So, your first big family Thanksgiving.” Patrick shed the shirt and folded it to place on the dirty side of his duffle. “How did it feel?”

David caught his eyes in the mirror and the dark brown eyes that were reflected back at Patrick were full of teasing light. “You know, I was expecting to low-key hate it, but it actually was not terrible.”

“Thank you.”

Patrick continued undressing, coiling up his belt before moving to remove his pants. David’s eyes crinkled at the corners, watching Patrick as he spread moisturizer over his face, carefully smoothing it into his skin. David’s voice was quiet as he said,“I really enjoyed your grandmother.”

Patrick had known that everyone he loved were good people, including his fiancé. Still, hearing that David had enjoyed spending time with his grandmother made his insides feel particularly mushy. Even his most masculine cousins hadn’t given David a hard time about anything. It had been better than Patrick had hoped. Dressed only in his underthings, Patrick crossed the room to where David sat.

“She really enjoyed you. She told me you were, and I quote, dreamy and a catch,” Patrick whispered into David’s ear before pressing a kiss to his temple.

David sent him a saucy look through the glass. “So long as you know that.”

“I do,” Patrick returned, a grin spreading across his face.

David held up his eye serum, top removed, and passed it toward Patrick. “Umm, my eyes are always better when you tend to them.”

Patrick just stared at the small pot of eucalyptus serum, waiting to see how long it would take David to get around to asking the question. David gave him a big, hopeful smile. “So if you could…”

David gave the container a slight swirl after he trailed off. The grin on his face shifted, the sides pulling in and Patrick watched as David’s teeth clenched. Patrick swallowed his laugh and plucked the bottle out of David’s hand. He spun his index finger in the air.

“Turn around.”

David complied and turned his face up for Patrick to apply the serum. Patrick dabbed his ring finger in the cosmetic, per careful instructions from David he had received after the first time he had been asked to perform this ritual for David. He pursed his lips as he began dabbing it underneath David’s eye, gently smoothing the liquid onto David’s soft skin. The familiarity of the action along with the sweet, spicy mix of sandalwood and frankincense was soothing.

“I’m glad we came. I had been avoiding this for too long. I don’t know why.”

He knew why, or at least the reasons he had envisioned before. All of the nightmares about a family holiday ruined by Patrick being exactly himself had faded in the beautiful reality of being accepted for exactly who he was. All of Patrick’s fears seemed silly now in this new-found light.

David had tilted his head back, eyes cast up towards the ceiling. “Mmm, You were scared. I mean, your family is actually something someone would miss.”

“You would miss your family,” Patrick insisted, setting up his finger for the next round.

“Umm, would I?”

“Stop wrinkling your eyes while I am applying your eye stuff,” Patrick chided, earning him a glare from his fiancé at the word stuff. He pulled his finger away while he waited for David to clear his face and glance upward again. “David, you love your family.”

“I know, but they’re not like,” David paused, waving his hands in circles, “this.”

“Like what?” Patrick asked, putting the top back on the serum and adding it back to the array on the table.

“Nice, and open and, like, affectionate. People you want to hang around with just because. They have all these stories and it reminded me of how when we first got to Schitt’s Creek, my dad didn't really know any of Alexis’s stories and still gawks at her when she tells one. Or the fact that my parents don’t really talk to their own families. Or about them.”

Patrick slid into David’s lap, wrapping his arms around David’s neck. David brought his head to rest against Patrick’s chest and it felt warm and right, hovering just over his heartbeat. Patrick wove his hand into David’s hair from the back.

He dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper and said, “I like hanging around with your family just because. I may actually miss regular game night with Ted and Alexis.”

Strong hands lifted the hem of his shirt and caressed Patrick’s back with warm, firm strokes. “I don’t know why. Alexis cheats,” David groused.

Alexis did cheat, but once David caught on to her, he would attempt to cheat back just as hard. There was usually a lot of squabbling and pouring of drinks and Ted reiterating the rules of the game to Alexis who would just flip her hair and shrug. There was a comfort to time spent with the Roses, even with all their quirks. They loved each other fiercely and drove each other completely crazy. Patrick adored them beyond what he had thought possible.

Patrick continued rubbing his fingers across his fiance’s scalp. Something about David always seemed to smooth out the jagged pieces that had been formed over years of carefully cutting out parts of himself that didn’t fit with the future he had imagined. This future was better.

Perhaps that’s why the confession bubbled up, unbidden. “Just so you know, you’re the second person I have ever brought home to my family.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Patrick frowned and kept stroking David’s head. “And Rachel came over before we were even a thing, so it’s kinda like you’re the first person I have ever really introduced to my family like that.”

Patrick paused, his hand stilling in David’s hair as the weight of it really hit home. “Romantically.”

“Fuck. Patrick.”

David shifted so one of his hands came up to cup Patrick’s head from nape to crown and pulled, while he surged upwards. The resulting force of their lips crashing together sent a thrill through Patrick. David’s fingers wove their way into his short strands of hair. Patrick tightened his hand into a fist in David’s hair as his other hand snuck under the collar of David’s sweater, his fingers gripping for purchase.

Patrick followed as David shifted to lean backward. David’s teeth caught his bottom lip and gently scraped over it. Patrick couldn’t prevent the groan that escaped his mouth. The kiss shifted and Patrick slid his tongue into David’s mouth. David arched and the movement was met with the sound of clattering beauty products.

Patrick found himself upright as David stole his mouth back. The heat in David’s eyes sent a shiver through Patrick. David’s breath was tagged as he gasped, “Bed. Now.”

David lifted both of them off the seat and Patrick scrambled to get his legs underneath him to not tumble them both as David walked him back toward the bed. Strong arms remained banded around him, keeping him from stumbling. When the bed hit the back of his legs, Patrick fell backwards bouncing slightly on the bed.

Looking up at David, Patrick frowned, his brows drawing together. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“Well you-” David’s breath gasped slightly as he removed the sweater and threw it at the swivel chair. “You’re wearing your stupid grandpa undershirt again.”

David kicked off his joggers as Patrick shimmied to have enough space to remove his undershirt. The hypocrisy had Patrick’s lips curving up. David usually also had a white undershirt beneath his sweaters but because David’s were carefully preserved, designer shirts and Patrick’s were from a Hanes six pack, Patrick got shit for it. Why you would pay extra money for a shirt that wasn’t meant to be seen he would never know.

“You like it,” Patrick sang in a tone that David would have to recognize from one of their Sandra Bullock fests. “You think it’s sexy.”

With that, Patrick whipped it over his head and sent it off the end of the bed.

“Fuck you,” David growled.

Patricks face softened at the promise in the words. With Puss-in-Boots eyes trained on David, Patrick whispered, “Please.”

“Fuck.”

With that, David was back on top of him. David’s mouth landed on his neck and sucked. Patrick arched his body up into David’s. That was a dangerous spot. Chances were likely he would end up with another hickey.

Tension continued building throughout his whole body as David slid his mouth up to Patrick’s ear and sucked on the lobe. A strangled sound escaped Patrick’s lips and he tried to swallow the sound. His hands roamed over the planes of David’s body, threading through the soft hair. Patrick’s enjoyment of David’s body hair was a revelation that he kept discovering.

Another shudder ran through him and Patrick used the momentum to hook his leg around David’s leg and flipped them both so that David was beneath him. David let out a breathless giggle and Patrick could only stare at him in awe for a moment, frozen. Then, a warm hand came up to cup his ass and Patrick swooped down to catch David’s lips with his own.

They moved together in harmony. Two years in and both of them knew each other’s favorite spots, how to speed things up and slow down as needed. Despite their familiarity with each other’s bodies, Patrick still found being with David as exciting as their first time. The staleness that had crept into his old relationships after the first orgasm never seemed to creep up. Then again, he had never really enjoyed sex until David.

Their breaths came together in shallow puffs, between moans and whispered words. Caresses were exchanged, as well as kisses. The sheets shifted and a pillow found its way to the floor. Patrick, at one point, crawled up David’s body to reach into the end table for supplies they had stashed in there, including condoms.

In the end, both Patrick and David were left satisfied and breathless. Patrick pressed a kiss to David’s shoulder before getting up and beginning to put things to rights. David watched him from the bed with sleepy eyes and Patrick couldn’t help but be amused by the fact that his bed had seen more action in this one long weekend than it had for all of the years before. He picked up the pillow up off the floor and tossed it at David. His fiancé caught it and held it over his face, just watching Patrick cross the room. Still, Patrick could tell a satisfied smirk lingered on David’s face.

After everyone and everything (including the clothes) were cleaned up, David’s head was pillowed on Patrick’s shoulder and he used a finger to trace designs across Patrick’s chest. “So, tomorrow, how about we fly home and have the car shipped back?”

Even if he couldn’t see David’s face, Patrick could picture the expression perfectly. He took in a deep breath to keep from laughing. “David, do you know how much it costs to ship a car?”

“No. We used to do it all the time, though,” David returned, petulantly.

“Used to being the operative words there,” Patrick teased. “You’ll survive the drive home.”

“Being denied a bathroom could lead to a bladder infection.”

Patrick rolled his eyes at the ceiling and hugged his fiance a little closer. “David, you can pee in the woods like anyone else.”

“Can I?” David asked, the cringe clearly coming through in his tone.

Patrick pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. “I love you.”

“You should--ackk!” Patrick couldn’t help his own smirk as his tickling sent David popping off his chest and backwards. David settled back with a furious glare. “Do. Not.”

Patrick pillowed both hands behind his head and kept his mouth from blooming into a full smile, even though the corners kept trying to tug up. “What?”

An accusatory finger poked in Patrick’s face and he managed not to flinch at the outrage or the entering of his body space. The corners of his mouth began tugging faster. “You know what! We agreed no tickling. We agreed!”

“Did we?” Patrick asked, knowing full well he was being an asshole.

“It was part of the accords.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I will _end_ you.”

David dove for Patrick’s armpits. Patrick shot his arms out from behind his head and tried to fend David off. “I’d like to see you try.”

A flurry of fingers, limbs and stifled giggles erupted. The pillows and the comforter found their way to the floor. Patrick smacked his elbow against the headboards at one point as he shifted to prevent David from getting to his side. He swallowed the swear, but when Patrick grabbed for his elbow he ended up leaving himself exposed.

Patrick tried getting his knee up in between himself and David. It was hard to move between his own laughter and David shifting to get a better angle. The bed shifted underneath them, pulling away from the wall. Patrick shoved at David’s shoulders, making enough space to roll away from the gap they had made.

A knock sounded on the door. They both froze, heavy breaths and wide eyes the only things exchanged between them. Patrick stared up at David with wide eyes.

“Boys,” Patrick heard his mom say through the door. “It’s late and we have all had a long day. I think it’s time for bed.”

David collapsed on top of him warm, heavy and comforting. His fiancé began shaking with silent laughs. Patrick had to bite his lip and breathe through his nose before he managed to choke out, “Yup. Night, Mom.”

Patrick felt the full blush blooming on his face. David was still shaking with laughter on top of him. A kiss was pressed to Patrick’s neck through David’s continued laughter. “Ok. Well, that was only mildly embarrassing. What do you say we fly home to get away from the embarrassment faster?”

“David, no.”

The next morning, after breakfast was done and the bags had been packed, Patrick headed outside to load the car. David stayed behind to finish gathering food for the ride home. Patrick was glad to be heading home, back to the usual flow of the store and their daily lives.

Patrick glanced back at the house that he had spent most of his life calling home. The last time he had packed up and driven away from this house, there had been such a hole in him. Patrick had just known he had needed to go to fill in the empty space inside. Still, that day, Patrick had looked back in the rear view, wondering if it was all a mistake to leave home and everything he knew. Now it was only the feeling he would miss his parents that lingered.

His mom slipped out of the house and pulled her coat tighter around her as she made her way down the porch. Patrick wanted to pack her and his dad up and move them to Schitt’s Creek with him. It was a silly and fleeting thought - they had full lives here - but he was feeling spoiled, having seen them three times in two months.

“David and your father are negotiating the custody of various leftovers,” she told him as she joined him by the trunk.

“Well, they have twenty minutes to figure it out or you get to keep David.”

His mom beamed at him, not the least bothered by that threat. Her hand landed on his arm, just above his elbow. “I could get used to having him around. Oh honey, I am so glad you came.”

Patrick looked down at her and felt the guilt well up inside him. As much as David comforted him about taking time to come out when he was ready, Patrick couldn’t help but feel like he had stolen time from all of them. They had reacted just as wonderfully as he had always expected they would-loving and supportive. If he had been just a little braver, had a little more faith in everyone. “Me too, Mom. I’m so sorry I haven’t—“

“No. No. None of that. You did what you had to do. I am the luckiest mother in the world.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“I do. I have a beautiful boy who has turned into a wonderful man. He has a successful business, calls home and is loved dearly.”

Patrick slid back in to hug her close again. She smelled like flowers and pastry and home. Tears burned at the corner of his eyes at the familiarity and having to let go. “I want to take you home with me.”

“Oh, you and David would get tired of having us around.”

“Not possible,” Patrick answered, sniffling slightly.

“Well,” his mom swallowed and he could see tears forming in her blue eyes. “I want you to stay but we both know that isn’t happening. You made your own home in this world and I couldn’t be prouder.”

“I ever tell you I am the luckiest kid?”

“You’ll call me when you get in?”

“It’s going to be late,” he insisted. Later still than he wanted to get in, depending on how long the haggling over pie lasted.

His mom’s hands came up and cupped either side of his face. “You’ll call me.”

“Yes, I’ll call you.”

Her hand patted against his cheek and Marcy blinked back her tears. “Good boy. Besides, we will see each other plenty. There’s a wedding to plan.”

“There is.” Visions of the wedding popped into Patrick’s head. David had started a mood board and made Patrick sign up for Pinterest so that he could see the background behind the mood board but mostly, all Patrick could see were visions of David’s smiling face and the feeling of being exactly where he was meant to be. Nothing was as important to him as spending the rest of his life with David Rose. Instead of following that path to its very emotional end, he thought of his fiancé and planning. “I will tell you the other groom has a very strong vision.”

“You have never been afraid of strong opinions and voicing your own. I can’t imagine a better person to trust with your heart.”

Neither could he. A little piece of his heart had been handed over to David Rose along with his business card that first meeting. The rest had swiftly followed and Patrick had never felt safer.

Patrick fisted his hands on his hips and surveyed the last of the titanium suitcases and his duffle. “I should get this trunk packed up.”

His mom gave his arm a friendly pat. “I will go speed the custody battle along.”

She turned to leave but David and his dad were already exiting the house. Somehow, his dad was carrying the snack bags and David had managed to find an additional piece of pie and was savoring bites as he came down the stairs. He was carefully licking the fork clean in between bites and making his blissed out face with every new bite.

“Breakfast wasn’t enough?”

David’s tongue flicked out to catch a bit of something that was in his lip. “Umm, there is always room for pie. Especially your mom’s towering apple pie.”

“With ice cream,” Patrick observed, noting the puddle that had formed around the edge of the dish.

“Uh, yes. Anything else would be incorrect.” David polished off the final bite. He turned to Mrs. Brewer with a big smile on his face. “Mrs. Brewer, I cannot begin to thank you enough. This weekend has been, probably, the best Thanksgiving I have ever had, and that includes the time my parents had Thomas Keller cater. I really, really loved the pie.”

David glanced down at the empty plate and fork he had been using to emphasise his statements, like he had just realized they were empty and he was still carrying them. His mom stepped forward and removed them from his hands. “Oh, David, you are welcome in our home at any time.”

Movement caught Patrick’s eye and he tracked over to watch his Dad duck back out of the car. “Dad?”

Clint grinned at Patrick as he closed the door, eyes twinkling with amusement. “I think we got all the snacks in there. You might just fit.”

Patrick loaded the last two suitcases into the trunk as his eyes rolled of their own volition. He couldn’t help smirking at his father. “Did you manage to keep anything?”

“Enough.” His dad came around the back of the car and caught Patrick in a quick, familiar embrace. A warm, comforting hand remained on Patrick’s shoulder when he pulled back. “Drive safe. Nothing wrong with taking a break if you need to.”

“Well, I think we will be alright. If we get going soon,” he called over his shoulder at David.

“Mmm, your mom and I are handling some very important business over here.” Patrick looked closer, and found that David had taken control of his mother's phone and was tapping away, without looking up. “You can wait like two minutes. Actually, make it five.”

Patrick rolled his eyes affectionately before turning back to his dad. He was looking at Patrick intensely, and it made Patrick shift in place.

“Patrick, I just want you to know how proud of you we are.”

His shoulders tightened and Patrick’s hands slid into his pockets, nearly on auto-pilot. “Me? For what?”

“I can only imagine how much courage it took you and David to come, for Thanksgiving and to meet all the family.”

“Dad—“

“No. When we first found out that you were gay and had been with David for almost two years without saying anything to your mother and I, I was hurt. I thought we had the kind of relationship where you could talk to me about anything.”

“I know. We do-“

“Stop.” His father held up a hand and Patrick swallowed the excuses and the guilt. “I am not—that was about my feelings, Patrick. Preparing for this weekend, I thought a lot about what I would do if anyone made a snide comment or said anything behind your back. And I trust this family but—it wasn’t pleasant. Now it makes more sense why you would be cautious, telling us, coming home.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Alright, we will see you soon?”

“Yes. I am certain those two are planning things.”

Patrick stared at David with his mom, their heads bent together over her phone. Eventually, David must have felt him staring, because his head shot up and he glared at Patrick. “What? I’m coming!” David pressed a quick kiss to Marcy’s cheek before heading over to join Patrick at the back of the car.

Another full round and a half of good-byes were exchanged, with more hugs and requests to drive safe and promises to call when they got home, before Patrick finally slid behind the wheel of the car. As he clicked his seat belt into place, Patrick caught David staring at him, his mouth quirked in a half smile. Patrick smiled back before turning the key and having the car engine roar to life.

As he shifted gears into drive and pulled out of the driveway, Patrick still felt David watching him. He slid his glance over briefly and caught the affection in his fiancé’s eyes before looking back to the road. “What?”

“Nothing. I just didn't...mmm...I don’t think I ever envisioned all this when I met an impatient, confident mystery man in mid-range denim.”

Patrick couldn’t help the smile that bloomed at that description of him. “I did, from that first moment.”

Silence stretched between them, and when David finally broke it, his voice was slightly wet with tears. “Ok, I am enforcing an embargo on romantic statements before five P.M. I am not emotionally prepared to handle them this early in the day. Especially as someone bullied me into getting up early.”

“You can go back to sleep. I don’t know why you shoved all the blankets in the back.”

Late 90’s pop music flooded the car as David finished connecting his device to the car’s sound system. “No, nope. I am up now. The coffee that was essential to get me through packing and breakfast will have me up for at least another three hours and then it will be time for lunch. Additionally, the going home playlist is set up for specific napping cycles. The first one starts after our scheduled lunch.”

“Ahh. Makes sense.”

“Also, for fun, I have picked out some quizzes to take before we completely lose signal. Let’s start with ‘What kind of sexy are you?’”

“Do we need a quiz for that?”

“Shut up.” David snapped. Patrick could feel David moving back into a less grumpy headspace and his voice took on a slightly cheery edge as he read, “_It’s your guy’s birthday. What are you getting him?_”

“Something elaborate because his birthday also happens to be our anniversary,” Patrick answered drily before David could even give him the options that would follow. “I’d be in pretty big trouble if I didn’t pull out all the stops for double duty.”

“That’s not- that's not even a choice!”

David gave a low hum of disapproval before focusing back quiz. “_A. That terrible movie you watched on your first date that’s kind of your inside joke.”_

“Um, we didn’t watch a movie. I think I might not have a guy at all if I bought him the terrible mozzarella sticks again.”

David didn’t take the bait this time, but instead ran his tongue over his teeth creating a quick ‘twhick’ noise before reading then next prompt even louder. “_B. A customized mixtape of your favorite songs together paired with his favorite dessert (that you baked of course!)_”

“What points do I lose for us having completely divergent tastes in music?” Patrick asked, flicking on the turn signal for the highway.

As expected, it was a step too far, and David exploded as Patrick accelerated to merge with traffic. “Ok, no, we are not doing this. This is not how this is going. The whole point of this exercise is to use your imagination to imagine which scenario sounds the most like you. The fact that we haven’t actually done any of this shit isn’t the point. If you’re going to be difficult, I am skipping right ahead to ‘Are you a secret bitch?’”

“Again, is a quiz needed for that? Is it a secret?”

Silence stretched between them again, but this time it wasn’t the warm and fuzzy silence of two people who knew they were well loved. Patrick could feel the darts of annoyance and frustration practically shooting out of David.

“Ok, ok,” Patrick managed to say as he buried the laughter. “I’m sorry. Let’s start from the top, it is my guy’s birthday and I am pretending it is also not our three year anniversary. Go.”

“We don’t have to do this. It’s fine,” David told him in a tight, clipped tone that told Patrick the teasing had definitely gone a step too far.

“No, no. You came up for a way to keep us both entertained.” Which, really, when Patrick thought of it was quite sweet. David could have just as easily stuck in his headphones and zoned out, rather than trying to keep Patrick engaged. “We should do it.”

“Okay,” David said, cautiously, but the angry, dart-like feelings slid away and David’s voice was warm again as he repeated the options, adding in a C. for sexy nudes.

“B.”

He can sense the eye roll without even looking at David. When he does slide his eyes over, there’s a smile hovering on David’s face. “I know, you’re sentimental as fuck. Alright, next, _You’re out with friends and you spot a cute guy eyeing you. You:_”

“Just clarifying, in this situation I do not have an incredibly hot fiance.”

“Patrick!”

His laugh slips out like a sharp bark, and Patrick can hear David grumble next to him. Looking down the stretch of open highway, Patrick cannot help but think back to the last time he drove down this road. Patrick of two and a half years ago had been scared, guilty and slightly relieved as he had headed west and into the unknown. Today, however, none of those feelings were present. There was the vague homesickness of leaving his family, but not the ache that had gnawed at his stomach when he wondered if he would ever have the courage to come back. Instead, Patrick felt love and hope and joy of all the things to come.

David is still sitting next to him, pouting. He had promised to be good, mostly, so Patrick says, “I’m sorry, but it makes a difference.”

“The guy at the bar is me. I am the guy eyeing you from across the bar,” David clarifies, clearly annoyed. “What do you do?”

“See, key information. What are my options?”

As David rattled off options, the song shifted to Whitney Houston asking for love and to be loved in return. The twelve or so hours in the car didn’t seem quite as unbearable with David by his side. Patrick slid his hand from the steering wheel and took David’s left hand, the golden rings sparkling in the sunlight. Even as exhausted as Patrick knew he would be tomorrow, he couldn’t wait to do it all again the next year with his husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for joining me for this ride. I accomplished my goal of starting it for Canadian Thanksgiving and finishing it before American Thanksgiving. Please leave any love you have as kudos or comments. I love a comment. 
> 
> Also, if you want to play either of David’s mentioned quizzes, you can take them below.
> 
> [What Kind Of Sexy Are You?](https://www.cosmopolitan.com/sex-love/a26965/cosmo_quiz_what_kind_of_sexy_are_you/)
> 
> [Are You a Secret Bitch?](https://www.cosmopolitan.com/sex-love/quizzes/a56099/quiz-what-type-of-bitch-are-you/)


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